lOMPSON 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




D0D0miES4H 



NEW POEMS 



NEW POEMS 



BY 
FRANCIS THOMPSON 



.^ 



// 




BOSTON 

COPELAND AND DAY 

MDCCCXCVII 






% Trans p.. 
10 '6 190/ 



COPYRIGHT 1897 BY COPELAND AND DAY 



Contents 



Page 

SIGHT AND INSIGHT I 

THE MISTRESS OF VISION 3 

CONTEMPLATION lO 

THE DREAD OF HEIGHT I 4 

ORIENT ODE I 7 

NEW year's CHIMES 23 

FROM THE NIGHT OF FOREBEING 26 

ANY SAINT 37 

ASSUMPTA MARIA 43 

THE AFTER WOMAN 48 

GRACE OF THE WAY 49 
RETROSPECT 
A NARROW VESSEL 

A girl's sin : I. IN HER EYES 57 

A girl's sin : II. IN HIS EYES 60 

LOVE DECLARED 62 

THE WAY OF A MAID 63 

BEGINNING OF END 64 

PENELOPE 64 

THE END OF IT 65 

EPILOGUE 66 



51 

55 



MISCELLANEOUS ODES: — 

ODE TO THE SETTING SUN 69 
A CAPTAIN OF SONG : ON A PORTRAIT OF COVEN- 
TRY PATMORE BY J. S. SARGENT, R.A. 79 
AGAINST URANIA ' 80 
AN ANTHEM OF EARTH 82 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS:— Page 

* EX ORE INFANTIUM ' 97 

A QUESTION 98 

FIELD-FLOWER I OO 

THE cloud's swan-song IOI 

TO THE SINKING SUN IO5 

grief's HARMONICS I 06 

MEMORAT MEMORIA IO7 

JULY FUGITIVE I08 

TO A SNOW-FLAKE I I I 

NOCTURN I I I 

A MAY BURDEN I I 2 

A DEAD ASTRONOMER I I 3 

CHOSE VUE I 14 

* WHERETO ART THOU COME ? * I I 4 

HEAVEN AND HELL I I 5 

TO A CHILD I I 5 

HERMES 116 

HOUSE OF BONDAGE II6 

THE HEART I I 7 

A SUNSET I I 8 

HEARD ON THE MOUNTAIN 121 

ULTIMA: — 

love's ALMSMAN PLAINETH HIS FARE I 29 

A HOLOCAUST I 30 

BENEATH A PHOTOGRAPH I3I 

AFTER HER GOING I 3 I 

MY LADY THE TYRANNESS I 3 2 

UNTO THIS LAST I 3 5 

ULTIMUM 137 

ENVOY 138 



SIGHT AND INSIGHT 

* Wisdom is easily seen by them that love her, and is 
found by them that seek her. 
To think therefore upon her is perfect understanding. ' 

Wisdom, vi. 



THE MISTRESS OF VISION 

I 




EGRET was the garden ; 
Set i' the pathless awe 
Where no star its breath can draw. 
Life, that is its warden. 
Sits behind the fosse of death. Mine 
eyes saw not, and I saw. 



It was a mazeful wonder ; 
Thrice three times it was enwalled 
With an emerald — 
Sealed so asunder. 
All its birds in middle air hung a-dream, their music 
thralled. 



Ill 

The Lady of fair weeping. 
At the garden's core. 
Sang a song of sweet and sore 
And the after-sleeping ; 
In the land of Luthany, and the tracts of Elenore. 



With sweet-panged singing. 
Sang she through a dream-night's day; 
That the bowers might stay. 
Birds bate their winging. 
Nor the wall of emerald float in wreathed haze away. 
3 



The Mis- V 

S/ The lily kept its gleaming. 

In her tears (divine conservers !) 
Washed with sad art ; 
And the flowers of dreaming 
Paled not their fervours. 
For her blood flowed through their nervures ; 
And the roses were most red, for she dipt them in her 
heart. 

VI 

There was never moon. 
Save the white sufficing woman : 
Light most heavenly-human — 
Like the unseen form of sound. 
Sensed invisibly in tune, — 
With a sun-derived stole 
Did inaureole 

All her lovely body round ; 
LoveUly her lucid body with that light was interstrewn. 



The sun which lit that garden wholly. 
Low and vibrant visible. 
Tempered glory woke ; 
And it seemed solely 
Like a silver thurible 
Solemnly swung, slowly. 
Fuming clouds of golden fire for a cloud of incense- 
smoke. 



VIII 

But woe 's me, and woe 's me. 
For the secrets of her eyes ! 



In my visions fearfully The Mis- 

They are ever shown to be Vision 

As fringed pools, whereof each lies 
Pallid-dark beneath the skies 
Of a night that is 
But one blear necropolis. 
And her eyes a little tremble, in the wind of her 
own sighs. 



Many changes rise on 
Their phantasmal mysteries. 
They grow to an horizon 
Where earth and heaven meet ; 
And like a wing that dies on 
The vague twilight-verges. 
Many a sinking dream doth fleet 
Lessening down their secrecies. 
And, as dusk with day converges. 
Their orbs are troublously 
Over-gloomed and over-glowed with hope and fear of 
things to be. 



There is a peak on Himalay, 
And on the peak undeluged snow 
And on the snow not eagles stray ; 
There if your strong feet could go, — 
Looking over tow'rd Cathay 
From the never-deluged snow — 
Farthest ken might not survey 
Where the peoples underground dwell, whom antique 
fables know. 
5 



The Mis- XI 

tress of 

Plsim East, ah, east of Himalay, 

Dwell the nations underground ; 

Hiding from the shock of Day, 

For the sun's uprising-sound : 

Dare not issue from the ground 

At the tumults of the Day, 

So fearfully the sun doth sound 

Clanging up beyond Cathay ; 
For the great earthquaking sunrise rolling up beyond 
Cathay. 



Lend me, O lend me 
The terrors of that sound. 
That its music may attend me. 
Wrap my chant in thunders round ; 
While I tell the ancient secrets in that Lady's singing 
found. 

XIII 

On Ararat there grew a vine. 
When Asia from her bathing rose ; 
Our first sailor made a twine 
Thereof for his prefiguring brows. 
Canst divine 
Where, upon our dusty earth, of that vine a cluster 
grows ? 



On Golgotha there grew a thorn 
Round the long-prefigured Brows. 
Mourn, O mourn ! 
For the vine have we the spine ? Is this all the Heaven 
allows ? 

6 



XV The Mis- 

tress of 

On Calvary was shook a spear ; Vision 

Prejs the point into thy heart — 
Joy and fear ! 
All the spines upon the thorn into curling tendrils start. 

O dismay ! 

I, a wingless mortal, sporting 
With the tresses of the sun ? 
I, that dare my hand to lay 
On the thunder in its snorting ? 
Ere begun. 
Falls my singed song down the sky, even the old 
Icarian way. 



From the fall precipitant 
These dim snatches of her chant 
Only have remained mine ; — 
That from spear and thorn alone 
May be grown 
For the front of saint or singer any divinizing twine. 



Her song said that no springing 
Paradise but evermore 
Hangeth on a singing 
That has chords of \veeping. 
And that sings the after-sleeping 
To souls which wake too sore. 
But woe the singer, woe ! ' she said ; ' beyond the 
dead his singing-lore. 
All its art of sweet and sore. 
He learns, in Elenore ! ' 
7 



The Mis- XIX 

tress of 

Vision Where is the land of Luthany, 

Where is the tract of Elenore ? 
I am bound therefor. 



* Pierce thy heart to find the key ; 
With thee take 

Only what none else would keep ; 
Learn to dream when thou dost wake. 
Learn to wake when thou dost sleep. 
Learn to water joy with tears. 
Learn from fears to vanquish fears ; 
To hope, for thou dar'st not despair. 
Exult, for that thou dar'st not grieve ; 
Plough thou the rock until it bear ; 
Know, for thou else couldst not believe ; 
Lose, that the lost thou may'st receive ; 
Die, for none other way canst live. 
When earth and heaven lay down their veil. 
And that apocalypse turns thee pale ; 
When thy seeing blindeth thee 
To what thy fellow-mortals see ; 
When their sight to thee is sightless ; 
Their living, death ; their light, most lightless ; 
Search no more — 
Pass the gates of Luthany, tread the region Elenore. ' 

XXI 

Where is the land of Luthany, 
And where the region Elenore ? 
I do faint therefor. 

* When to the new eyes of thee 
All things by immortal power. 
Near or far. 



Hiddenly ^Iw'" 

To each other linked are. Vision 

That thou canst not stir a flower 
Without troubling of a star ; 
When thy song is shield and mirror 
To the fair snake-curled Pain, 
Where thou dar'st affront her terror 
That on her thou may'st attain 
Persean conquest ; seek no more, 
O seek no more ! 
Pass the gates of Luthany, tread the region Elenore! * 



So sang she, so wept she. 
Through a dream-night' s day ; 
And with her magic singing kept she — 
Mystical in music — 
That garden of enchanting 
In visionary May ; 
Swayless for my spirit's haunting, 
Thrice-threefold walled with emerald from our mortal 
mornings grey. 



XXIII 

And as a necromancer 
Raises from the rose-ash 
The ghost of the rose ; 
My heart so made answer 
To her voice's silver plash, — 
Stirred in reddening flash. 
And from out its mortal ruins the purpureal phantom 
blows. 
9 



The Mis- XXIV 

tress of 

Vision Her tears made dulcet fretting. 

Her voice had no word. 
More than thunder or the bird. 
Yet, unforgetting. 
The ravished soul her meanings knew. Mine ears 
heard not, and I heard. 



When she shall unwind 
All those wiles she wound about me 
Tears shall break from out me. 
That I cannot find 
Music in the holy poets to my wistful want, I doubt 
me ! 



CONTEMPLATION 

^HIS morning saw I, fled the shower, 
)The earth reclining in a lull of power: 
The heavens, pursuing not their path. 
Lay stretched out naked after bath. 
Or so it seemed; field, water, tree, were still. 
Nor was there any purpose on the calm-browed hill. 

The hill, which sometimes visibly is 
Wrought with unresting energies. 
Looked idly ; from the musing wood. 
And every rock, a life renewed 
Exhaled like an unconscious thought 
When poets, dreaming unperplexed. 
Dream that they dream of nought. 
Nature one hour appears a thing unsexed, 

10 




Or to such serene balance brought Contempla- 

That her twin natures cease their sweet alarms, *^°^ 

And sleep in one another's arms. 

The sun w4th resting pulses seems to brood. 

And slacken its command upon my unurged blood. 

The river has not any care 

Its passionless water to the sea to bear ; 

The leaves have brown content ; 

The wall to me has freshness like a scent. 

And takes half animate the air. 

Making one life with its green moss and stain ; 

And life with all things seems too perfect blent 

For anything of life to be aware. 

The very shades on hill, and tree, and plain. 

Where they have fallen doze, and where they doze 



No hill can idler be than I ; 
No stone its inter-particled vibration 
Investeth with a stiller lie ; 
No heaven with a more urgent rest betrays 
The eyes that on it gaze. 
We are too near akin that thou shouldst cheat 
Me, Nature, with thy fair deceit. 
In poets floating like a water-flower 
Upon the bosom of the glassy hour. 
In skies that no man sees to move. 
Lurk untumultuous vortices of power. 
For joy too native, and for agitation 
Too instant, too entire for sense thereof. 
Motion like gnats when autumn suns are low. 
Perpetual as the prisoned feet of love 
On the heart's floors with pained pace that go. 
From stones and poets you may know. 
Nothing so active is, as that which least seems so. 
II 



Contempla- For he, that conduit running wine of song, 

Uon Then to himself does most belong. 

When he his mortal house unbars 
To the importunate and thronging feet 
That round our corporal walls unheeded beat ; 
Till, all containing, he exalt 
His stature to the stars, or stars 
Narrow their heaven to his fleshly vault : 
When, like a city under ocean. 
To human things he grows a desolation. 
And is made a habitation 
For the fluctuous universe 
To lave with unimpeded motion. 
He scarcely frets the atmosphere 
With breathing, and his body shares 
The immobility of rocks ; 
His heart 's a drop-well of tranquillity ; 
His mind more still is than the limbs of fear. 
And yet its unperturbed velocity 
The spirit of the simoom mocks. 
He round the solemn centre of his soul 
Wheels like a dervish, while his being is 
Streamed with the set of the world's harmonies. 
In the long draft of whatsoever sphere 
He lists the sweet and clear 
Clangour of his high orbit on to roll. 
So gracious is his heavenly grace ; 
And the bold stars does hear. 
Every one in his airy soar. 
For evermore 

Shout to each other from the peaks of space. 
As thwart ravines of azure shouts the mountaineer. 



12 




BY REASON OF THY LAW 

ERE I make oath — 

jAlthough the heart that knows its bitterness 

'Here loath. 
And credit less — 

That he who kens to meet Pain's kisses fierce 
Which hiss against his tears. 
Dread, loss, nor love frustrate. 
Nor all iniquity of the froward years 
Shall his inured wing make idly bate. 
Nor of the appointed quarry his staunch sight 
To lose observance quite ; 
Seal from half-sad and all-elate 
Sagacious eyes 
Ultimate Paradise ; 
Nor shake his certitude of haughty fate. 

Pacing the burning shares of many dooms, 

I with stern tread do the clear-witting stars 

To judgment cite. 

If I have borne aright 

The proving of their pure- willed ordeal. 

From food of all delight 

The heavenly Falconer my heart debars. 

And tames with fearful glooms 

The haggard to His call ; 

Yet sometimes comes a hand, sometimes a voice withal. 

And she sits meek now, and expects the light. 

In this Avernian sky. 

This sultry and incumbent canopy 

Of dull and doomed regret ; 

Where on the unseen verges yet, O yet. 

At intervals. 

Trembles, and falls. 

Faint lightning of remembered transient sweet — 

'3 



'By Reason Ah, far too sweet 

of thy Law' g^j. ^^ j^g sweet a little, a little sweet, and fleet; 

Leaving this pallid trace. 

This loitering and most fitful light a space. 

Still some sad space. 

For Grief to see her own poor face : — 

Here where I keep my stand 

With all o'er-anguished feet. 

And no live comfort near on any hand ; 

Lo, I proclaim the unavoided term. 

When this morass of tears, then drained and firm. 

Shall be a land — 

Unshaken I affirm — 

Where seven-quired psalterings meet ; 

And all the gods move with calm hand in hand. 

And eyes that know not trouble and the worm. 



THE DREAD OF HEIGHT 

If ye were blind, ye should have no sin : but 
NOW YE SAY : We see : your sin remaineth. 

John ix. 41. 
^OT the Circean wine 
l^Most perilous is for pain : 
(Grapes of the heaven's star-loaden vine. 
Whereto the lofty-placed 
Thoughts of fair souls attain. 
Tempt with a more retributive delight. 
And do disrelish all life's sober taste. 
'T is to have drunk too well 
The drink that is divine, 
Maketh the kind earth waste. 
And breath intolerable. 

14 




Ah me ! The Dread 

How shall my mouth content it with mortality ? of Height 

Lo, secret music, sweetest music. 

From distances of distance drifting its lone flight, 

Down the arcane where Night would perish in night, ^ 

Like a god's loosened locks slips undulously : 

Music that is too grievous oi the height 

For safe and low delight. 

Too infinite. 

For bounded hearts which yet would girth the sea ! 

So let it be. 

Though sweet be great, and though my heart be small : 
So let it be, 

O music, music, though you wake in me 
No joy, no joy at all ; 
Although you only wake 
Uttermost sadness, measure of delight. 
Which else I could not credit to the height. 
Did I not know. 

That ill is statured to its opposite ; 
Did I not know. 
And even of sadness so. 
Of utter sadness make. 
Of extreme sad a rod to mete 
The incredible excess of unsensed sweet. 
And mystic wall of strange felicity. 
So let it be. 

Though sweet be great, and though my heart be small. 
And bitter meat 

The food of gods for men to eat ; 
Yea, John ate daintier, and did tread 
Less ways of heat. 
Than whom to their wind-carpeted 
High banquet-hall. 

And golden love-feasts, the fair stars entreat. 
IS 



The Dread But ah withal, 

of Height 5Qnie \iQ\di, some stay, 

O difficult Joy, I pray. 

Some arms of thine. 

Not only, only arms of mine ! 

Lest like a weary girl I fall 

From clasping love so high. 

And lacking thus thine arms, then may 

Most hapless I 

Turn utterly to love of basest rate ; 

For low they fall whose fall is from the sky. 

Yea, who me shall secure 

But I of height grown desperate 

Surcease my wing, and my lost fate 

Be dashed from pure 

To broken writhings in the shameful sHme : 

Lower than man, for I dreamed higher. 

Thrust down, by how much I aspire. 

And damned with drink of immortality ? 

For such things be. 

Yea, and the lowest reach of reeky Hell 

Is but made possible 

By foreta'en breath of Heaven's austerest clime. 

These tidings from the vast to bring 

Needeth not doctor nor divine. 

Too well, too well 

My flesh doth know the heart-perturbing thing ; 

That dread theology ^o^e 

Is mine. 

Most native and my own ; 

And ever ^ith victorious toil 

When I have made 

Of the deific peaks dim escalade. 

My soul with anguish and rpcoil 

Doth like a city in an earthquake rock, 

i6 



As at my feet the abyss is cloven then. The Dread 

With deeper menace than for other men, of Height 

Of my potential cousinship with mire ; 

That all my conquered skies do grow a hollow mock. 

My fearful powers retire. 

No longer strong. 

Reversing the shook banners of their song. 

Ah, for a heart less native to high Heaven, 

A hooded eye, for jesses and restraint. 

Or for a will accipitrine to pursue ! 

The veil of tutelar flesh to simple livers given. 

Or those brave-fledging fervours of the Saint, 

Whose heavenly falcon-craft doth never taint. 

Nor they in sickest time their ample virtue mew. 




csg^-^ V 



ORIENT ODE 

O, in the sanctuaried East, 
Day, a dedicated priest 
In all his robes pontifical exprest, 
Lifteth slowly, lifteth sweetly. 
From out its Orient tabernacle drawn. 
Yon orbed sacrament confest 
Which sprinkles benediction through the dawn. 
And when the grave procession's ceased. 
The earth with due illustrious rite 
Blessed, — ere the frail fingers featly 
Of twilight, violet-cassocked acolyte. 
His sacerdotal stoles unvest — 
Sets, for high close of the mysterious feast. 
The sun in august exposition meetly 
Within the flaming monstrance of the West. 
17 2 



Orient Ode O saltitaris hostidy 

Qu^ coeli pa?idis ostium ! 
Through breached darkness' rampart, a 
Divine assaulter, art thou come ! 
God whom none may live and mark ! 
Borne within thy radiant ark. 
While the Earth, a joyous David, 
Dances before thee from the dawn to dark. 
The moon, O leave, pale ruined Eve ; 
Behold her fair and greater daughter ^ 
Offers to thee her fruitful water. 
Which at thy first white Ave shall conceive ! 
Thy gazes do on simple her 
Desirable allures confer ; 
What happy comelinesses rise 
Beneath thy beautifying eyes ! 
Who was, indeed, at first a maid 
Such as, with sighs, misgives she is not fair. 
And secret views herself afraid. 
Till flatteries sweet provoke the charms they swear : 
Yea, thy gazes, blissful lover. 
Make the beauties they discover ! 
What dainty guiles and treacheries caught 
From artful prompting of love's artless thought 
Her lowly loveliness teach her to adorn. 
When thy plumes shiver against the conscious gates 
of morn ! 



And so the love which is thy dower. 
Earth, though her first-frightened breast 
Against the exigent boon protest, 
(For she, poor maid, of her own power 
Has nothing in herself, not even love. 
But an unwitting void thereof). 



1 The earth 



iS 



Gives back to thee in sanctities of flower; Orient Ode. 

And holy odours do her bosom invest. 

That sweeter grows for being prest : 

Though dear recoil, the tremorous nurse of joy. 

From thine embrace still stardes coy. 

Till Phosphor lead, at thy returning hour. 

The laughing captive from the wishing West, 



Nor the majesdc heavens less 

Thy formidable sweets approve. 

Thy dreads and thy delights confess. 

That do draw, and that remove. 

Thou as a lion roar'st, O Sun, 

Upori thy satellites' vexed heels ; 

Before thy terrible hunt thy planets run ; 

Each in his frighted orbit wheels. 

Each flies through inassuageable chase. 

Since the hunt o' the world begun. 

The puissant approaches of thy face. 

And yet thy radiant leash he feels. 

Since the hunt o' the world begun. 

Lashed with terror, leashed with longing. 

The mighty course is ever run ; 

Pricked with terror, leashed with longing. 

Thy rein they love, and thy rebuke they shun. 

Since the hunt o' the world began. 

With love that trembleth, fear that loveth. 

Thou join'st the woman to the man ; 

And Life with Death 

In obscure nuptials moveth. 

Commingling alien, yet affined breath. 



Thou art the incarnated Light 
Whose Sire is aboriginal, and beyond 
19 



Orient Ode Death and resurgence of our day and night ; 
From him is thy vicegerent wand 
With double potence of the black and white. 
Giver of Love, and Beauty, and Desire, 
The terror, and the loveliness, and purging. 
The deathfulness and lifefulness of fire ! 
Samson's riddling meanings merging 
In thy twofold sceptre meet : 
Out of thy minatory might. 
Burning Lion, burning Lion, 
Comes the honey of all sweet. 
And out of thee, the eater, comes forth meat. 
And though, by thine alternate breath. 
Every kiss thou dost inspire 
Echoeth 

Back from the windy vaultages of death ; 
Yet thy clear warranty above 
Augurs the wings of death too must 
Occult reverberations stir of love 
Crescent and life incredible ; 
That even the kisses of the just 
Go down not unresurgent to the dust. 
Yea, not a kiss which I have given. 
But shall triumph upon my lips in heaven. 
Or cling a shameful fungus there in hell. 
Know'st thou me not, O Sun ? Yea, well 
Thou know'st the ancient miracle. 
The children know'st of Zeus and May ; 
And still thou teachest them, O splendent Brother, 
To incarnate, the antique way. 
The tiuth which is their heritage from their Sire 
In sweet disguise of flesh from their sweet Mother. 
My fingers thou hast taught to con 
Thy flame-chorded psalterion. 
Till I can translate into mortal wire — 
Till I can translate passing well — 



The heavenly harping harmony. Orient Ode 

Melodious, sealed, inaudible. 

Which makes the dulcet psalter of the world's desire. 

Thou whisperest in the Moon's white ear. 

And she does whisper into mine, — 

By night together, I and she — 

With her virgin voice divine. 

The things I cannot half so sweetly tell 

As she can sweetly speak, I sweetly hear. 

By her, the Woman, does Earth live, O Lord, 

Yet she for Earth, and both in thee. 

Light out of Light ! 

Resplendent and prevailing Word 

Of the Unheard ! 

Not unto thee, great Image, not to thee 

Did the wise heathen bend an idle knee ; 

And in an age of faith grown frore 

If I too shall adore. 

Be it accounted unto me 

A bright sciential idolatry! 

God has given thee visible thunders 

To utter thine apocalypse of wonders ; 

And what want I of prophecy. 

That at the sounding from thy station 

Of thy flagrant trumpet, see 

The seals that melt, the open revelation .? 

Or who a God-persuading angel needs. 

That only heeds 

The rhetoric of thy burning deeds ? 

Which but to sing, if it may be. 

In worship-warranting moiety. 

So I would win 

In such a song as hath within 

A smouldering core of mystery. 

Brimmed with nimbler meanings up 

21 



Orient Ode Than hasty Gideons in their hands may sup ; — 
Lo, my suit pleads 
That thou, Isaian coal of fire. 
Touch from yon altar my poor mouth's desire. 
And the relucent song take for thy sacred meeds ! 

To thine own shape 

Thou round'st the chrysolite of the grape, 

Bind'st thy gold lightnings in his veins ; 

Thou storest the white garners of the rains. 

Destroyer and preserver, thou 

Who medicinest sickness, and to health 

Art the unthanked marrow of its wealth ; 

To those apparent sovereignties we bow 

And bright appurtenances of thy brow ! 

Thy proper blood dost thou not give. 

That Earth, the gusty Msenad, drink and dance ? 

Art thou not life of them that live ? 

Yea, in glad twinkling advent, thou dost dwell 

Within our body as a tabernacle ! 

Thou bittest with thine ordinance 

The jaws of Time, and thou dost mete 

The unsustainable treading of his feet. 

Thou to thy spousal universe 

Art Husband, she thy Wife and Church ; 

Who in most dusk and vidual curch. 

Her Lord being hence. 

Keeps her cold sorrows by thy hearse. 

The heavens renew their innocence 

And morning state 

But by thy sacrament communicate ; 

Their weeping night the symbol of our prayers. 

Our darkened search. 

And sinful vigil desolate. 

Yea, biune in imploring dumb. 

Essential Heavens and corporal Earth await, 

22 



The Spirit and the Bride say : Come ! Onent Ode 

Lo, of thy Magians I the least 

Haste with my gold, my incenses and myrrhs. 

To thy desired epiphany, from the spiced 

Regions and odorous of Song's traded East. 

Thou, for the life of all that live 

The victim daily born and sacrificed ; 

To whom the pinion of this longing verse 

Beats but with fire which first thyself did give. 

To thee, O Sun — or is 't perchance to Christ? 

Ay, if men say that on all high heaven's face 

The saindy signs I trace 

Which round my stoled altars hold their solemn place. 

Amen, amen ! For oh, how could it be, — 

When I with winged feet had run 

Through all the windy earth about, 

Quested its secret of the sun. 

And heard what thing the stars together shout, — 

I should not heed thereout 

Consenting counsel won : — 

' By this, O Singer, know we if thou see. 

When men shall say to thee : Lo ! Christ is here. 

When men shall say to thee : Lo ! Christ is there. 

Believe them : yea, and this — then art thou seer. 

When all thy crying clear 

Is but : Lo here ! lo there! — ah me, lo everywhere!' 



NEW YEAR'S CHIMES 

HAT is the song the stars sing ? 

( And a million songs are as song of one. ) 
This is the song the stars sing : 

Sweeter song 'j none. 
23 




New Year's One to set, and many to sing, 



Chimes 



(^And a million songs are as song of one). 
One to stand, and many to cling. 
The many things, and the one Thing, 

The one that runs not, the many that run. 



The ever new weaveth the ever old 

{^And a million songs are as song of one). 

Ever telling the never told ; 

The silver saith, and the said is gold. 
And done ever the never done. 



The chase that *s chased is the Lord o' the chase 
(^And a million songs are as song of one). 

And the pursued cries on the race ; 

And the hounds in leash are the hounds that run. 



Hidden stars by the shown stars' sheen ; 

(^And a million suns are but as one); 
Colours unseen by the colours seen. 
And sounds unheard heard sounds between. 

And a night is in the light of the sun. 



An ambuscade of light in night, 

(^And a million secrets are but as one). 

And a night is dark in the sun's hght. 

And a world in the world man looks upon. 

Hidden stars by the shown stars' wings, 
(^And a million cycles are but as one). 

And a world with unapparent strings 

Knits the simulant world of things ; 
Behold, and vision thereof is none. 

24 



The world above in the world below ^^"^ ^^^'''^ 

(^A?id a million worlds are but as one)^ 
And the One in all ; as the sun's strength so 
Strives in all strength, glows in all glow 

Of the earth that wits not, and man thereon. 



Braced in its own fourfold embrace 

(^And a million strengths are as strength of one^y 
And round it all God's arms of grace. 
The world, so as the Vision says. 

Doth with great lightning-tramples run. 

And thunder bruiteth into thunder, 

(^And a million sounds are as sound of one'). 
From stellate peak to peak is tossed a voice of wonder. 
And the height stoops down to the depths thereunder. 
And sun leans forth to his brother sun. 



And the more ample years unfold 

( With a million songs as song of one) , 

A little new of the ever old, 

A little told of the never told. 
Added act of the never done. 

Loud the descant, and low the theme, 
{^A million songs are as song of one); 
And the dream of the world is dream in dream. 
But the one Is is, or nought could seem ; 
And the song runs round to the song begun. 

This is the song the stars sing, 

( Toned all in time); 
Tintinnabulous, tuned to ring 
A multitudinous-single thing. 

Rung all in rhyme. 

25 




FROM THE NIGHT OF FOREBEING 

ax ode after easter 

In the chaos of preordination-, and night of 
OUR forebeings. — S:r Thomas Brozir.i. 

Et lux in tenebris erat, et tenebr.^ eam non 
comprehenderunt. — St. John. 

AST wide the folding doorways of the East, 

>For now is light increased! 

And the wind-besomed chambers of the air. 
See they be garnished fair ; 
And look the ways exhale some precious odours. 
And set ye all about wild-breathing spice. 
Most fit for Paradise. 
Now is no time for sober gravity. 
Season enough has Nature to be wise ; 
But now discinct, with raiment glitterirg free. 
Shake she the ringing rafters of the skies 
With festal footing and bold jovance sweet. 
And let the earth be drunken and carouse ! 
For lo, into her house 

Spring is come home with her world-wandering feet. 
And all things are made young with young desires ; 
And all for her is light increased 
In yellow stars and yellow daffodils. 
And East to West, and West to East, 
Fling answering welcome-fires. 
By dawn and day-fall, on the jocund hills. 
And ye, winged minstrels of her fair meinie. 
Being newly coated in glad livery. 
Upon her steps attend. 

And round her treading dance and without end 
Reel your shrill lutany. 

What popular breath her coming does out-tell 
The garrulous leaves among ! 

26 



What little noises stir and pass From the 

From blade to blade along the voluble grass ! %^^^''\ ^^ 

O Nature, never-done 

Ungaped-at Pentecostal miracle. 

We hear thee, each man in his proper tongue ! 

Break, elemental children, break ye loose 

From the strict frosty rule 

Of grey-beard Winter's school. 

Vault, O young w^inds, vault in your tricksome 

courses 
Upon the snowy steeds that reinless use 
In coerule pampas of the heaven to run ; 
Foaled of the white sea-horses. 
Washed in the lambent waters of the sun. 
Let even the slug-abed snail upon the thorn 
Put forth a conscious horn! 
Mine elemental co-mates, joy each one ; 
And ah, my foster-brethren, seem not sad — 
No, seem not sad. 

That my strange heart and I should be so little glad. 
Suffer me at your leafy feast 
To sit apart, a somewhat alien guest. 
And watch your mirth, 
Unsharing in the liberal laugh of earth ; 
Yet with a sympathy. 

Begot of wholly sad and half-sweet memory — 
The litde sweetness making grief complete ; 
Faint wind of wings from hours that distant beat. 
When I, I too. 

Was once, O wild companions, as are you. 
Ran with such wilful feet. 
Wraith of a recent day and dead. 
Risen wanly overhead. 
Frail, strengthless as a noon-belated moon. 
Or as the glazing eyes of watery heaven. 
When the sick night sinks into deathly swoon. 

27 



Prom the A higher and a solemn voice 

^/;^/// 0/ J i^eapj through your gay-hearted noise ; 

A solemn meaning and a stiller voice 

Sounds to me from far days when I too shall rejoice. 

Nor more be with your jollity at strife. 

O prophecy 

Of things that are, and are not, and shall be ! 

The great-vanned Angel March 

Hath trumpeted 

His clangorous ' Sleep no more * to all the dead — 

Beat his strong vans o'er earth, and air, and sea. 

And they have heard ; 

Hark to the Jubilate of the bird 

For them that found the dying way to life ! 

And they have heard. 

And quicken to the great precursive word ; 

Green spray showers lightly down the cascade of the 
larch ; 

The graves are riven. 

And the Sun comes with power amid the clouds of 
heaven ! 

Before his way 

Went forth the trumpet of the March ; 

Before his way, before his way 

Dances the pennon of the May ! 

O earth, unchilded, widowed Earth, so long 

Lifting in patient pine and ivy-tree 

Mournfol belief and steadfast prophecy. 

Behold how all things are made true ! 

Behold your bridegroom cometh in to you. 

Exceeding glad and strong. 

Raise up your eyes, O raise your eyes abroad ! 

No more shall you sit sole and vidual. 

Searching, in servile pall. 

Upon the hieratic night the star-sealed sense of all: 

Rejoice, O barren, and look forth abroad ! 

28 



Your children gathered back to your embrace 

See with a mother's face. 

Look up, O mortals, and the portent heed ; 

In very deed. 

Washed with new fire to their irradiant birth. 

Reintegrated are the heavens and earth ! 

From sky to sod. 

The world's unfolded blossom smells of God. 



From the 
Night of 
Forebeing 



O imagery 

Of that which was the first, and is the last ! 
For as the dark, profound nativity, 
God saw the end should be. 
When the world's infant horoscope He cast. 
Unshackled from the bright Phoebean awe. 
In leaf, flower, mould, and tree. 
Resolved into dividual liberty. 
Most strengthless, unparticipant, inane. 
Or suffered the ill peace of lethargy, 
Lo, the Earth eased of rule : 
Unsummered, granted to her own worst smart 
The dear wish of the fool — 
Disintegration, merely which man's heart 
For freedom understands. 
Amid the frog-like errors from the damp 
And quaking swamp 

Of the low popular levels spawned in all the lands. 
But thou, O Earth, dost much disdain 
The bondage of thy waste and futile reign. 
And sweetly to the great compulsion draw 
Of God's alone true-manumitting law. 
And Freedom, only which the wise intend. 
To work thine innate end. 
Over thy vacant counterfeit of death 
Broods with soft urgent breath 
Love, that is child of Beauty and of Awe : 
29 



From the 
Night of 
Forebeing 



To intercleavage of sharp warring pain. 
As of contending chaos come again. 
Thou wale' St, O Earth, 

And work' St from change to change and birth to birth 
Creation old as hope, and new as sight ; 
For meed of toil not vain. 
Hearing once more the primal fiat toll : — 
' Let there be light ! ' 
And there is light ! 
Light flagrant, manifest ; 
Light to the zenith, light from pole to pole ; 
Light from the East that waxeth to the West, 
And with its puissant goings-forth 
Encroaches on the South and on the North ; 
And with its great approaches does prevail 
Upon the sullen fastness of the height. 
And summoning its levied power 
Crescent and confident through the crescent hour. 
Goes down with laughters on the subject vale. 
Light flagrant, manifest ; 
Light to the sentient closeness of the breast. 
Light to the secret chambers of the brain ! 
And thou up-floatest, warm, and newly-bathed. 
Earth, through delicious air. 
And with thine own apparent beauties swathed. 
Wringing the waters from thine arborous hair ; 
That all men's hearts, which do behold and see. 
Grow weak with their exceeding much desire. 
And turn to thee on fire. 
Enamoured with their utter wish of thee, 
Anadyom.ene ! 

What vine-outquickening life all creatures sup, 
Feel, for the air within its sapphire cup 
How it does leap, and twinkle headily ! 
Feel, for Earth's bosom pants, and heaves her scarfing 
sea; 

30 



And round and round in bacchanal rout reel the swift Prom the 
spheres intemperably ! ffrfbetg 

My litde-worlded self! the shadows pass 

In this thy sister-world, as in a glass. 

Of all processions that revolve in thee : 

Not only of cyclic Man 

Thou here discern' st the plan. 

Not only of cyclic Man, but of the cyclic Me. 

Not solely of Mortality's great years 

The reflex just appears. 

But thine own bosom's year, sdll ci-rcling round 

In ample and in ampler gyre 

Toward the far completion, wherewith crowned. 

Love unconsumed shall chant in his own furnace-fire. 

How many trampled and deciduous joys 

Enrich thy soul for joys deciduous sdll. 

Before the distance shall fulfil 

Cyclic unrest with solemn equipoise ! 

Happiness is the shadow of things past. 

Which fools still take for that which is to be ! 

And not all foolishly : 

For all the past, read true, is prophecy. 

And all the firsts are hauntings of some Last, 

And all the springs are flash-lights of one Spring. 

Then leaf, and flower, and falless fruit 

Shall hang together on the unyellowing bough ; 

And silence shall be Music mute 

For her surcharged heart. Hush thou ! 

These things are far too sure that thou should' st 

dream 
Thereof, lest they appear as things that seem. 

Shade within shade ! for deeper in the glass 
Now other imaged meanings pass ; 
31 



From the 
Night of 
Forebeing 



And as the man, the poet there is read. 

Winter with me, alack ! 

Winter on every hand I find : 

Soul, brain, and pulses dead ; 

The mind no further by the warm sense fed. 

The soul weak-stirring in the arid mind. 

More tearless- weak to flash itself abroad 

Than the earth's life beneath the frost-scorched sod. 

My lips have drought, and crack. 

By laving music long unvisited. 

Beneath the austere and macerating rime 

Draws back constricted in its icy urns 

The genial flame of Earth, and there 

With torment and with tension does prepare 

The lush disclosures of the vernal time. 

All joys draw inward to their icy urns. 

Tormented by constraining rime. 

And there 

With undelight and throe prepare 

The bounteous efflux of the vernal time. 

Nor less beneath compulsive Law 

Rebuked draw 

The numbed musics back upon my heart ; 

Whose yet-triumphant course I know 

And prevalent pulses forth shall start. 

Like cataracts that with thunderous hoof charge the 

disbanding snow. 
All power is bound 
In quickening refusal so ; 
And silence is the lair of sound ; 
In act its impulse to dehver. 
With fluctuance and quiver 
The endeavouring thew grows rigid ; 
Strong 

From its retracted coil strikes the resilient song. 

32 



Giver of spring. Prom the 

And song, and every young new^ thing ! ^%% °^ 

Thou only seest in me, so stripped and bare. 
The lyric secret w^aiting to be born. 
The patient term allowed 
Before it stretch and flutteringly unfold 
Its rumpled webs of amethyst-freaked, diaphanous gold. 
And what hard task abstracts me from delight. 
Filling with hopeless hope and dear despair 
The still-born day and parched fields of night. 
That my old way of song, no longer fair. 
For lack of serene care. 
Is grown a stony and a weed-choked plot. 
Thou only know'st aright. 
Thou only know'st, for I know not. 
How many songs must die that this may live ! 
And shall this most rash hope and fugitive. 
Fulfilled with beauty and with might 
In days whose feet are rumorous on the air. 
Make me forget to grieve 

For songs which might have been, nor ever were ? 
Stern the denial, the travail slow. 
The struggling wall will scantly grow : 
And though with that dread rite of sacrifice 
Ordained for during edifice. 
How long, how long ago ! 
Into that wall which will not thrive 
I build myself alive. 

Ah, who shall tell me will the wall uprise ? 
Thou wilt not tell me, who dost only know ! 
Yet still in mind I keep. 

He which observes the wind shall hardly sow. 
He which regards the clouds shall hardly reap. 
Thine ancient way ! I give. 
Nor wit if I receive ; 

Risk all, who all would gain : and blindly. Be it so. 
33 3 



Prom the ' And blindly/ said I ? — No ! 
fol^etg That saying I unsay : the wings 

Hear I not in prsevenient winnowings 

Of coming songs, that lift my hair and stir it ? 

What winds with music wet do the sweet storm fore- 
show ! 

Utter stagnation 

Is the solstitial slumber of the spirit, 

The blear and blank negation of all life ; 

But these sharp questionings mean strife, and strife 

Is the negation of negation. 

The thing from which I turn my troubled look. 

Fearing the gods' rebuke ; 

That perturbation putting glory on. 

As is the golden vortex in the West 

Over the foundered sun ; 

That — but low breathe it, lest the Nemesis 

Unchild me, vaunting this — 

Is bliss, the hid, hugged, swaddled bliss ! 

O youngling Joy carest ! 

That on my now first-mothered breast 

Pliest the strange wonder of thine infant lip. 

What this aghast surprise of keenest panging, 

Wherefrom I blench, and cry thy soft mouth rest ? 

Ah hold, withhold, and let the sweet mouth slip ! 

So, with such pain, recoils the woolly dam. 

Unused, affrighted, from her yeanling lamb : 

I, one with her in cruel fellowship. 

Marvel what unmaternal thing I am. 

Nature, enough ! within thy glass 

Too many and too stern the shadows pass. 

In this delighted season, flaming 

For thy resurrection-feast. 

Ah, more I think the long ensepulture cold. 

Than stony winter rolled 

34 



From the unsealed mouth of the holy East; From the 

The snowdrop's saintly stoles less heed Night of 

mi 1-1 r \ 1 Porebetng 

Than the snow-cloistered penance of the seed. 

'T is the weak flesh reclaiming 

Against the ordinance 

Which yet for just the accepting spirit scans. 

Earth waits, and patient heaven. 

Self-bonded God doth wait 

Thrice-promulgated bans 

Of his fair nuptial-date. 

And power is man's. 

With that great word of * wait,' 

To still the sea of tears. 

And shake the iron heart of Fate. 

In that one word is strong 

An else, alas, much-mortal song ; 

With sight to pass the frontier of all spheres. 

And voice which does my sight such wrong. 

Not without fortitude I wait 
The dark majestical ensuit 
Of destiny, nor peevish rate 
Calm-knowledged Fate. 

I, that no part have in the time's bragged way. 
And its loud bruit ; 
I, in this house so rifted, marred. 
So ill to live in, hard to leave ; 
I, so star-weary, over-warred. 
That have no joy in this your day — 
Rather foul fume englutting, that of day 
Confounds all ray — 
But only stand aside and grieve ; 
I yet have sight beyond the smoke. 
And kiss the gods' feet, though they wreak 
Upon me stroke and again stroke ; 
And this my seeing is not weak. 
35 



Prom the 
Night of 
Forebeing 



The Woman I behold, whose vision seek 

All eyes and know not ; t'ward whom climb 

The steps o' the world, and beats all wing of rhyme. 

And knows not ; 'twixt the sun and moon 

Her inexpressible front enstarred 

Tempers the wrangling spheres to tune ; 

Their divergent harmonies 

Concluded in the concord of her eyes. 

And vestal dances of her glad regard. 

I see, which fretteth with surmise 

Much heads grown unsagacious-grey. 

The slow aim of wise-hearted Time, 

Which folded cycles within cycles cloak : 

We pass, we pass, we pass ; this does not pass away. 

But holds the furrowing earth still harnessed to its 

yoke. 
The stars still write their golden purposes 
On heaven's high palimpsest, and no man sees. 
Nor any therein Daniel ; I do hear 
From the revolving year 
A voice which cries : 
' All dies ; 

Lo, how all dies ! O seer. 
And all things too arise : 
All dies, and all is born ; 
But each resurgent morn, behold, more near the Perfect 

Morn. ' 



Firm is the man, and set beyond the cast 
Of Fortune's game, and the iniquitous hour. 
Whose salcon soul sits fast. 
And not intends her high sagacious tour 
Or ere the quarry sighted ; who looks past 
To slow much sweet from little instant sour. 
And in the first does always see the last. 



36 




ANY SAINT 

IS shoulder did I hold 
jToo high that I, o'erbold 

Weak one. 
Should lean thereon. 

But He a litde hath 
Declined His stately path. 
And my 
Feet set more high ; 

That the slack arm may reach 
His shoulder, and faint speech 
Stir 
His unwithering hair. 

And bolder now and bolder 
1 lean upon that shoulder. 
So dear 
He is and near : 

And with His aureole 
The tresses of my soul 
Are blent 
In wished content. 

Yea, this too gentle Lover 
Hath flattering words to move her 
To pride 
By His sweet side. 

Ah, Love ! somewhat let be ! 
Lest my humility 

Grow weak 
When thou dost speak ! 



37 



Any Saint Rebate thy tender suit. 

Lest to herself impute 
Some worth 
Thy bride of earth ! 

A maid too easily 
Conceits herself to be 
Those things 
Her lover sings ; 



And being straitly wooed. 
Believes herself the Good 
And Fair 
He seeks in her. 

Turn something of Thy look. 
And fear me with rebuke. 
That I 
May timorously 

Take tremors in Thy arms 
And with contrived charms 
Allure 
A love unsure. 

Not to me, not to me, 
Builded so flawfully, 
O God, 
Thy humbling laud ! 

Not to this man, but Man, — 
Universe in a span ; 
Point 
Of the spheres conjoint ; 

38 



In whom eternally Any Saint 

Thou, Light, dost focus Thee ! — 
Didst pave 
The way o' the wave. 

Rivet with stars the Heaven, 
For causeways to Thy driven 
Car 
In its coming far 

Unto him, only him ! 
In Thy deific whim 

Didst bound 
Thy works' great round 

In this small ring of flesh ; 
The sky's gold-knotted mesh 
Thy wrist 
Did only twist 

To take him in that net. — 
Man ! swinging-wicket set 
Between 
The Unseen and Seen, 

Lo, God's two worlds immense. 
Of spirit and of sense. 
Wed 
In this narrow bed ; 



Yea, and the midge's hymn 
Answers the seraphim 
Athwart 
Thy body's court ! 
39 



Atiy Saint Great arm-fellow of God ! 

To the ancestral clod 
Kin, 
And to cherubin ; 

Bread predilectedly 
O' the worm and Deity ! 
Hark, 
O God's clay-sealed Ark, 

To praise that fits thee, clear 
To the ear within the ear 
But dense 
To clay-sealed sense. 

All the Omnific made 
When in a word he said, 
(Mystery !) 
He uttered thee; 

Thee His great utterance bore, 
O secret metaphor 
Of what 
Thou dream' St no jot ! 

Cosmic metonymy ! 
Weak world-unshuttering key- 
One 
Seal of Solomon ! 

Trope that itself not scans 
Its huge significance. 
Which tries 
Cherubic eyes. 

40 



Primer where the angels all ^^y •5a!««^ 

God's grammar spell in small. 
Nor spell 
The highest too well. 

Point for the great descants 
Of starry disputants ; 
Equation 
Of creation. 

Thou meaning, couldst thou see. 
Of all which dafteth thee ; 
So plain. 
It mocks thy pain ; 

Stone of the Law indeed. 
Thine own self couldst thou read ; 
Thy bliss 
Within thee is. 

Compost of Heaven and mire. 
Slow foot and swift desire ! 
Lo, 
To have Yes, choose No ; 

Gird, and thou shalt unbind ; 
Seek not, and thou shalt find ; 
To eat. 
Deny thy meat ; 

And thou shalt be fulfilled 
With all sweet things unwilled : 
So best 
God loves to jest 



41 



Any Saint With children small — a freak 

Of heavenly hide-and-seek 
Fit 
For thy wayward wit. 

Who art thyself a thing 
Of whim and wavering ; 
Free 
When His wings pen thee ; 

Sole fully blest, to feel 
God whistle thee at heel ; 
Drunk up 
As a dew-drop. 

When He bends down, sun-wise 
Intemperable eyes ; 

Most proud. 
When utterly bowed, 

To feel thyself and be 
His dear nonentity — 
Caught 
Beyond human thought 

In the thunder-spout of Him, 
Until thy being dim. 
And be 
Dead deathlessly. 

Stoop, stoop ; for thou dost fear 
The nettle's wrathful spear. 
So slight 
Art thou of might ! 

42 




Rise ; for Heaven hath no frown Any Saint 

When thou to thee pluck'st down. 
Strong clod ! 
The neck of God. 



ASSUMPTA MARIA 

* Thou need'st not sing new songs, but say the 
OLD.' — Cowley, 

)ORTALS, that heboid a Woman, 
Rising Uwixt the Moon and Sun ; 

\Who am I the heavens assume ? an 
All am /, and I am one. 

Multitudinous ascend I, 

Dreadful as a battle arrayed. 
For I bear you whither tend I ; 

Ye are I : be undismayed ! 
I, the Ark that for the graven 

Tables of the Law was made ; 
Man's own heart was one, one Heaven 
Both within my womb were laid. 
For there Anteros with Eros 

Heaven wnth man conjoined was, — 
Twin-stone of the Law, Ischyros, 
Agios Athanatos, 

I, the flesh-girt Paradises 

Gardenered by the Adam new, 
Daintied o'er with sweet devices 

Which He loveth, for He grew. 
I, the boundless strict savannah 

Which God's leaping feet go through ; 
I, the heaven whence the Manna, 

Weary Israel, slid on you ! 
43 



Assumpta He the Anteros and Eros, 

I the body. He the Cross ; 
He upbeareth me, Ischyros, 
Azios Athanatos ! 



I am Daniel's mystic Mountain, 

Whence the mighty stone was rolled ; 
I am the four Rivers' fountain. 

Watering Paradise of old ; 
Cloud down-raining the Just One am, 

Danae of the Shower of Gold ; 
I the Hostel of the Sun am ; 
He the Lamb, and I the Fold. 
He the Anteros and Eros, 

I the body. He the Cross ; 
He is fast to me, Ischyros, 
Agios Atha?iatos ! 

I, the presence-hall where Angels 

Do enwheel their placed King — 
Even my thoughts which, without change else. 

Cyclic burn and cyclic sing. 
To the hollow of Heaven transplanted, 

I a breathing Eden spring. 
Where with venom all outpanted 
Lies the slimed Curse shrivelling. 
For the brazen Serpent clear on 

That old fanged knowledge shone ; 
I to Wisdom rise, Ischyron, 
Agion Athanaton ! 

See in highest heaven pavilioned 

Now the maiden Heaven rest. 
The many-breasted sky out-millioned 

By the splendours of her vest. 

44 



Lo, the Ark this holy tide is . Assumpta 

The un-handmade Temple's guest. 
And the dark Egyptian bride is 

Whitely to the Spouse-Heart prest ! 
He the Anteros and Eros, 

Nail me to Thee, sweetest Cross ! 
He is fast to me, Ischyros, 
Agios Athanatos ! 



' Tell me, tell me, O Beloved, 

Where Thou dost in mid-day feed ! 
For my wanderings are reproved. 

And my heart is salt with need.' 
* Thine own self not spellest God in. 

Nor the lisping papyrus reed ? 
Follow where the flocks have trodden. 
Follow where the shepherds lead.' 
He, the Anteros and Eros, 

Mounts me in ^gyptic car. 
Twin -yoked ; leading me, Ischyros, 
Trembling to the untempted Far. 



' Make me chainlets, silvern, golden, 

I that sow shall surely reap ; 
While as yet my Spouse is holden 

Like a Lion in mountained sleep.' 
* Make her chainlets, silvern, golden. 
She hath sown and she shall reap ; 
Look up to the mountains olden. 

Whence help comes with Honed leap.* 
By what gushed the bitter Spear on. 

Fain, which sundered, maketh one ; 
Crucified to him, Ischyron, 
Agion Athanaton ! 
45 



Assumpta Then commanded and spake to me 

^^''''^ He who framed all things that be ; 

And my Maker entered through me. 

In my tent His rest took He. 
Lo! He standeth. Spouse and Brother; 

I to Him, and He to me. 
Who upraised me where my mother 
Fell, beneath the apple-tree. 
Risen 'twixt Anteros and Eros, 

Blood and Water, Moon and Sun, 
He upbears me. He IschyroSy 
I bear Him, the Atha?iaton ! 



Where is laid the Lord arisen ? 

In the light we walk in gloom ; 
Though the sun has burst his prison. 

We know not his biding-room. 
Tell us where the Lord sojourneth. 

For we find an empty tomb. 
* Whence He sprung, there He returneth. 
Mystic Sun, — the Virgin's Womb.' 
Hidden Sun, His beams so near us. 

Cloud enpillared as He was 
From of old, there He, Ischyros, 
Waits our search, Athanatos ! 



Who will give Him me for brother. 

Counted of my family. 
Sucking the sweet breasts of my Mother } — 

I His flesh, and mine is He ; 
To my Bread myself the bread is. 

And my Wine doth drink me : see. 
His left hand beneath my head is, 

46 



His right hand embraceth me ! Assumpta 

Sweetest Anteros and Eros, 

Lo, her arms He leans across ; 
Dead that we die not, stooped to rear us, 
Thanatos Athanatos. 

Who is She, in candid vesture. 

Rushing up from out the brine ? 
Treading with resilient gesture 

Air, and with that Cup divine ? 
She in us and we in her are. 

Beating Godward : all that pine, 
Lo, a wonder and a terror ! 

The Sun hath blushed the Sea to Wine ! 
He the Anteros and Eros, 

She the Bride and Spirit ; for 

Now the days of promise near us. 

And the Sea shall be no more. 

Open wide thy gates, O Virgin, 

That the King may enter thee ! 

At all gates the clangours gurge in, 

God's paludament lightens, see! 

Camp of Angels ! Well we even 

Oif this thing may doubtful be, — 
If thou art assumed to Heaven, 
Or is Heaven assumed to thee ! 

Consummatum. Christ the promised. 

Thy maiden realm is won, O Strong ! 
Since to such sweet Kingdom comest. 
Remember me, poor Thief of Song ! 

Cadent fails the stars along : — 
Mortals, that behold a woman 

Rising ' twixt the Moon and Sun ; 
Who am I the heavens assume ? an 
All am /, and I am one. 
47 




THE AFTER WOMAN 

'AUGHTER of the ancient Eve, 

IWe know the gifts ye gave — and give. 

;Who knows the gifts which you shall give. 

Daughter of the newer Eve ? 

You, if my soul be augur, you 

Shall — O what shall you not. Sweet, do ? 

The celestial traitress play. 

And all mankind to bliss betray ; 

With sacrosanct cajoleries 

And starry treachery of your eyes. 

Tempt us back to Paradise ! 

Make heavenly trespass ; — ay, press in 

Where faint the fledge-foot seraphin. 

Blest Fool ! Be ensign of our wars. 

And shame us all to warriors ! 

Unbanner your bright locks, — advance. 

Girl, their gilded puissance, 

r the mystic vaward, and draw on 

After the lovely gonfalon 

Us to out-folly the excess 

Of your sweet foolhardiness ; 

To adventure like intense 

Assault against Omnipotence ! 

Give me song, as She is, new. 

Earth should turn in time thereto ! 

New, and new, and thrice so new. 

All old sweets. New Sweet, meant you ! 

Fair, I had a dream of thee. 

When my young heart beat prophecy. 

And in apparition elate 

Thy little breasts knew waxed great. 

Sister of the Canticle, 

And thee for God grown marriageable. 

How my desire desired your day, 

48 



That, wheeled in rumour on its way. The After 

Shook me thus with presentience ! Then Woman 

Eden's lopped tree shall shoot again : 

For who Christ's eyes shall miss, with those 

Eyes for evident nuncios ? 

Or who be tardy to His call 

In your accents augural ? 

Who shall not feel the Heavens hid 

Impend, at tremble of your lid. 

And divine advent shine avowed 

Under that dim and lucid cloud ; 

Yea, 'fore the silver apocalypse 

Fail, at the unsealing of your lips ? 

When to \o\q. you is (O Christ's Spouse!) 

To love the beauty of His house ; 

Then come the Isaian days ; the old 

Shall dream ; and our young men behold 

Vision — yea, the vision of Thabor mount. 

Which none to other shall recount. 

Because in all men's hearts shall be 

The seeing and the prophecy. 

For ended is the Mystery Play, 

When Christ is life, and you the way ; 

When Egypt's spoils are Israel's right. 

And Day fulfils the married arms of Night. 

But here my lips are still. 

Until 

You and the hour shall be revealed. 

This song is sung and sung not, and its words are sealed. 



GRACE OF THE WAY 

)Y brother ! ' spake she to the sun ; 

The kindred kisses of the stars 
[Were hers ; her feet were set upon 

The moon. If slumber solved the bars 
49 4 




Grace of Of sense, or sense transpicuous grown 

the Way Fulfilled seeing unto sight, 

I know not ; nor if 't was my own 
Ingathered self that made her night. 



The windy trammel of her dress. 

Her blown locks, took my soul in mesh ; 

God's breath they spake, with visibleness 
That stirred the raiment of her flesh: 

And sensible, as her blown locks were. 
Beyond the precincts of her form 

I felt the woman flow from her — 
A calm of intempestuous storm. 

I failed against the affluent tide ; 

Out of this abject earth of me 
I was translated and enskied 

Into the heavenly-regioned She. 

Now of that vision I bereaven 

This knowledge keep, that may not dim : 
Short arm needs man to reach to Heaven, 

So ready is Heaven to stoop to him. 

Which sets, to measure of man's feet. 
No alien Tree for trysting-place ; 

And who can read, may read the sweet 
Direction in his Lady's face. 

And pass and pass the daily crowd, 

Unwares, occulted Paradise ; 
Love the lost plot cries silver-loud. 

Nor any know the tongue he cries, 

50 



The light is in the darkness, and G^^^^ of 

The darkness doth not comprehend : '^ '^^ 

God hath no haste ; and God's sons stand 
Yet a Day, tarrying for the end. 

Dishonoured Rahab still hath hid. 

Yea still, within her house of shame. 
The messengers by Jesus bid 

Forerun the coming of His Name. 

The Word was flesh, and crucified. 

From the beginning, and blasphemed : 
Its profaned raiment men divide. 

Damned by what, reverenced, had redeemed. 

Thy Lady, was thy heart not blind. 

One hour gave to thy witless trust 
The key thou go'st about to find ; 

And thou hast dropped it in the dust. 

Of her, the Way's one mortal grace. 

Own, save thy seeing be all forgot. 
That truly, God was in this place. 

And thou, unblessed, knew'st it not. 

But some have eyes, and will not see ; 

And some would see, and have not eyes ; 
And fail the tryst, yet find the Tree, 

And take the lesson for the prize. 



RETROSPECT 

fLAS, and I have sung 
Much song of matters vain, 
I And a heaven-sweetened tongue 

Turned to unprofiting strain 

SI 




Retrospect Of vacant things, which though 

Even so they be, and throughly so. 
It is no boot at all for thee to know. 
But babble and false pain. 



What profit if the sun 

Put forth his radiant thews. 

And on his circuit run. 

Even after my device, to this and to that use ; 

And the true Orient, Christ, 

Make not His cloud of thee ? 

I have sung vanity. 

And nothing well devised. 

And though the cry of stars 

Give tongue before his way 

Goldenly as I say. 

And each from wide Saturnus to hot Mars 

He calleth by its name. 

Lest that its bright feet stray ; 

And thou have lore of all. 

But to thine own Sun's call 

Thy path disorbed hast never wit to tame ; 

It profits not withal. 

And my rede is but lame. 

Only that, 'mid vain vaunt 
Of wisdom ignorant, 
A little kiss upon the feet of Love 
My hasty verse has stayed 
Sometimes a space to plant ; 
It has not wholly strayed. 

Not wholly missed near sweet, fanning proud plumes 
above. 

52 



Therefore I do repent Retrospect 

That with religion vain. 

And misconceived pain, 

I have my music bent 

To waste on bootless things its skiey-gendered rain : 

Yet shall a wiser day 

Fulfil more heavenly way. 

And with approved music clear this slip, 

I trust in God most sweet ; 

Meantime the silent lip. 

Meantime the cUmbing feet. 



S3 



NARROW VESSEL 
Being a little dramatic sequence on the aspect of 
primitive girl-nature towards a love beyond 
its capacities 



SS 




GIKVS SIN: I. —In her Eyes 

I ROSS child ! red, and frowning so ? 

* I, the day just over, 
\Gave a lock of hair to — no ! 

How i^are you say, my lover ? ' 

He asked you ? — Let me understand ; 
Come, child, let me sound it ! 

* Of course, he would have asked it, and — 

And so — somehow — he — found it. 

* He told it out with great loud eyes — 

Men have such little wit ! 
His sin I ever will chastise 
Because I gave him it. 

' Shameless in me the gift, alas ! 

In him his open bliss : 
But for the privilege he has 

A thousand he shall miss ! 

' His eyes, where once I dreadless laughed. 

Call up a burning blot : 
I hate him, for his shameful craft 

That asked by asking not ! ' 

Luckless boy! and all for hair 
He never asked, you said ? 

* Not just — but then he gazed — I swear 

He gazed it from my head ! 

* His silence on my cheek like breath 

I felt in subtle way ; 
More sweet than aught another saith 
Was what he did not say. 
57 



AGirPs 'He'll think me vanquished, for this lapse. 



Sin 



Who should be above him ; 
Perhaps he'll think me light; perhaps — 
Perhaps he '11 think I — love him ! 

* Are his eyes conscious and elate, 

I hate him that I blush ; 
Or are they innocent, still I hate — 
They mean a thing 's to hush. 

' Before he nought amiss could do. 

Now all things show amiss ; 
'T was all my fault, I know that true. 

But all my fault was his. 

* I hate him for his mute distress, 

'T is insult he should care ! 
Because my heart's all humbleness. 
All pride is in my air. 

' With him, each favour that I do 
Is bold suit's hallowing text ; 

Each gift a bastion levelled, to 
The next one and the next. 

' Each wish whose, grant may him befall 
Is clogged bv those withstood ; 

He trembles, hoping one means all. 
And I, lest perhaps it should. 

' Behind me piecemeal gifts I cast. 

My fleeing self to save ; 
And that's the thing must go at last. 

For that 's the thing he 'd have. 



58 



&v» 



* My lock the enforced steel did grate A GirPs 

To cut ; its root-thrills came 
Down to my bosom. It might sate 

His lust for my poor shame ! 



* His sifted dainty this should be 

For a score ambrosial years ! 
But his too much humility 
Alarums me with fears. 

< My gracious grace a breach he counts 

For graceless escalade ; 
And, though he's silent ere he mounts. 

My watch is not betrayed. 

* My heart hides from my soul he 's sweet : 

Ah dread, if he divine! 
One touch, I might fall at his feet. 
And he might rise from mine. 

' To hear him praise my eyes' brown gleams 

Was native, safe delight ; 
But now it usurpation seems. 

Because I 've given him right. 

' Before I 'd have him not remove. 
Now would not have him near ; 

With sacrifice I called on Love, 
And the apparition's Fear.' 

Foolish to give it ! — ' ' Twas my whim. 

When he might parted be. 
To think that I should stay by him 

In a little piece of me. 
59 



A GirPs « He always said my hair was soft — 

^^^ What touches he will steal ! 

Each touch and look (and he '11 look oft) 
I almost thought I 'd feel. 



* And then, when first he saw the hair. 

To think his dear amazement ! 

As if he wished from skies a star. 

And found it in his casement. 

* He 'd kiss the lock — and I had toyed 

With dreamed delight of this : 
But ah, in proof, delight was void — 
I could not see his kiss ! ' 



So, fond one, half this agony 

Were spared, which my hand hushes. 
Could you have played. Sweet, the sweet spy. 

And blushed not for your blushes ! 



A GIRL'S SIN: II. —In his Eyes 

^AN I forget her cruelty 

>Who, brown miracle, gave you me ? 

>Or with unmoisted eyes think on 
The proud surrender overgone, 
(Lowlihead in haughty dress). 
Of the tender tyranness ? 
And ere thou for my joy was given. 
How rough the road to that blest heaven! 
With what pangs I fore-expiated 
Thy cold outlawry from her head ; 
How was I trampled and brought low. 
Because her virgin neck was so ; 

60 




How thralled beneath the jealous state A GirPs 

She stood at point to abdicate ; ^'^ 

How sacrificed, before to me 

She sacrificed her pride and thee ; 

How did she, struggling to abase 

Herself to do me strange, sweet grace. 

Enforce unwitting me to share 

Her throes and abjectness with her ; 

Thence heightening that hour when her lover 

Her grace, with trembling, should discover. 

And in adoring trouble be 

Humbled at her humility! 

And with what pitilessness was I 

After slain, to pacify 

The uneasy manes of her shame. 

Her haunting blushes ! — Mine the blame : 

What fair injustice did I rue 

For what I — did not tempt her to ? 

Nor aught the judging maid might win 

Me to assoil from her sweet sin. 

But nought were extreme punishment 

For that beyond-divine content. 

When my with-thee-first-giddied eyes 

Stooped ere their due on Paradise ! 

O hour of consternating bliss 

When I heavened me in thy kiss ; 

Thy softness (daring overmuch !) 

Profaned with my licensed touch ; 

Worshipped, with tears, on happy knee. 

Her doubt, her trust, her shyness free. 

Her timorous audacity ! 



6i 




LOVE DECLARED 

'LOOKED, she drooped, and neither spake, 

and cold, 
IWe stood, how unlike all forecasted thought 
Of that desired minute ! Then I leaned 
Doubting ; whereat she lifted — oh, brave eyes 
Unfrighted : forward like a wind-blown flame 
Came bosom and mouth to mine ! 

That falling kiss 
Touching long-laid expectance, all went up 
Suddenly into passion ; yea, the night 
Caught, blazed, and wrapt us round in vibrant fire. 

Time's beating wing subsided, and the winds 
Caught up their breathing, and the world's great pulse 
Stayed in mid-throb, and the wild train of life 
Reeled by, and left us stranded on a hush. 
This moment is a statue unto Love 
Carved from a fair white silence. 

Lo, he stands 
Within us — are we not one now, one, one roof. 
His roof, and the partition of weak flesh 
Gone down before him, and no more, for ever ? — 
Stands like a bird new-lit, and as he lit. 
Poised in our quiet being ; only, only 
Within our shaken hearts the air of passion. 
Cleft by his sudden coming, eddies still 
And whirs round his enchanted movelessness. 



A film of trance between two stirrings ! Lo, 

It bursts ; yet dream's snapped links cling round the 

limbs 
Of waking : like a running evening stream 
Which no man hears, or sees, or knows to run, 
(Glazed with dim quiet), save that there the moon 

62 




Is shattered to a creamy flicker of flame, i^ve 

Our eyes' sweet trouble were hid, save that the Declared 

love 
Trembles a little on their impassioned calms. 



THE WAY OF A MAID 

^I^HE lover whose soul shaken is 
[In some decuman billow of bliss. 
Who feels his gradual- wading feet 
Sink in some sudden hollow of sweet. 
And 'mid love's used converse comes 
Sharp on a mood which all joy sums — 
An instant's fine compendium of 
The liberal-leaved writ of love ; 
His abashed pulses beating thick 
At the exigent joy and quick. 
Is dumbed, by aiming utterance great 
Up to the miracle of his fate. 
The wise girl, such Icarian fall 
Saved by her confidence that she 's small, — 
As what no kindred word will fit 
Is uttered best by opposite. 
Love in the tongue of hate exprest. 
And deepest anguish in a jest, — 
Feeling the infinite must be 
Best said by triviality. 
Speaks, where expression bates its wings. 
Just happy, alien, little things ; 
What of all words is in excess 
ImpHes in a sweet nothingness. 
With dailiest babble shows her sense 
That full speech were full impotence ; 
And while she feels the heavens lie bare. 
She only talks about her hair. 
63 




BEGINNING OF END 

iHE was aweary of the hovering 
jOf Love's incessant and tumultuous wing; 
;Her lover's tokens she would answer not — 
'Twere well she should be strange with him some- 
what : 
A pretty babe, this Love, — but fie on it. 
That would not suffer her lay it down a whit ! 
Appointed tryst defiantly she balked. 
And with her lightest comrade lighdy walked. 
Who scared the chidden Love to hide apart. 
And peep from some unnoticed corner of her heart. 
She thought not of her lover, deem it not 
(There yonder, in the hollow, that's his cot). 
But she forgot not that he was forgot. 
She saw him at his gate, yet stilled her tongue — 
So weak she felt her, that she would feel strong. 
And she must punish him for doing him wrong : 
Passed, unoblivious of oblivion still ; 
And if she turned upon the brow o' the hill. 
It was so openly, so lightly done. 
You saw she thought he was not thought upon. 
He through the gate went back in bitterness ; 
She that night woke and stirred, with no distress. 
Glad of her doing, — sedulous to be glad. 
Lest perhaps her foolish heart suspect that it was sad. 



PENELOPE 

>OVE, like a wind, shook wide your blosmy 

eyes, 
lYou trembled, and your breath came sobbing- 
wise 
For that you loved me. 

64 




You were so kind, so sweet, none could withhold Penelope 
To adore, but that you were so strange, so cold ; 
For that you loved me. 

Like to a box of spikenard did you break 
Your heart about my feet. What words you spake ! 
For that you loved me. 

Life fell to dust without me ; so you tried 
All carefullest ways to drive me from your side, 
For that you loved me. 

You gave yourself as children give, that weep 
And snatch back, with — ' I meant you not to keep ! ' 
For that you loved me. 

I am no woman, girl, nor ever knew 
That love could teach all ways that hate could do 
To her that loved me. 

Have less of love, or less of woman in 
Your love, or loss may even from this begin — 
That you so love me. 

For, wild Penelope, the web you wove 
You still unweave, unloving all your love ; 
Is this to love me. 

Or what rights have I that scorn could deny ? 
Even of your love, alas, poor Love must die. 
If so you love me ! 



THE END OF IT 

HE did not love to love ; but hated him 
For making her to love, and so her whim 
From passion taught misprision to begin ; 
And all this sin 

65 5 





The End Was because love to cast out had no skill 

°^ ^^ Self, which was regent still. 

Her own self-will made void her own self's will. 



EPILOGUE 

IF I have studied here in part 
A tale as old as maiden's heart, 
'Tis that I do see herein 
Shadow of more piteous sin. 

She, that but giving part, not whole. 
Took even the part back, is the Soul ; 
And that so disdained Lover — 
Best unthought, since Love is over. 

Love to invite, desire, and fear. 
And Love's exactions cost too dear 

Count for Love's possession, — ah. 
Thy way, miser a Anima ! 

To give the pledge, and yet be pined 
That a pledge should have force to bind, 
This, O Soul, too often still 
Is the recreance of thy will ! 

Out of Love's arms to make fond chain. 
And, because struggle bringeth pain. 

Hate Love for Love's sweet constraint 
Is the way of Souls that faint. 

Such a Soul, for saddest end. 
Finds Love the foe in Love the friend ; 
And — ah, grief incredible ! — 
Treads the way of Heaven, to Hell. 

66 



MISCELLANEOUS ODES 



67 




ODE TO THE SETTING SUN 

PRELUDE 

^^j^HE wailful sweetness of the violin 

Floats down the hushed waters of the wind. 
The heart-strings of the throbbing harp begin 
To long in aching music. Spirit-pined, 



In wafts that poignant sweetness drifts, until 

The wounded soul ooze sadness. The red sun, 

A bubble of fire, drops slowly toward the hill. 
While one bird prattles that the day is done. 



O setting Sun, that as in reverent days 
Sinkest in music to thy smoothed sleep. 

Discrowned of homage, though yet crowned with rays. 
Hymned not at harvest more, though reapers reap ; 



For thee this music wakes not. O deceived. 
If thou hear in these thoughtless harmonies 

A pious phantom of adorings reaved. 
And echo of fair ancient flatteries ! 



Yet, in this field where the Cross planted reigns, 
I know not what strange passion bows my head 

To thee, whose great command upon my veins 
Proves thee a god for me not dead, not dead ! 



For worship it is too incredulous. 

For doubt — oh, too believing-passionate ! 

What wild divinity makes my heart thus 

A fount of most baptismal tears ? — Thy straight 
69 



Ode to the Long beam lies steady on the Cross. Ah me ! 
Sun^^ What secret would thy radiant finger show ? 

Of thy bright mastership is this the key ? 
Is this thy secret, then ? And is it woe ? 

Fling from thine ear the burning curls, and hark 
A song thou hast not heard in Northern day ; 

For Rome too daring, and for Greece too dark. 

Sweet with wild wings that pass, that pass away ! vk V 



ODE 

Alpha and Omega, sadness and mirth. 

The springing music, and its wasting breath — 
The fairest things in life are Death and Birth, 

And of these two the fairer thing is Death. 
Mystical twins of Time inseparable. 

The younger hath the holier array. 
And hath the awfuller sway : 

It is the falling star that trails the light. 

It is the breaking wave that hath the might. 
The passing shower that rainbows maniple. 

Is it not so, O thou down-stricken Day, 
That draw' St thy splendours round thee in thy fall ? 
High was thine Eastern pomp inaugural ; 
But thou dost set in statelier pageantry. 

Lauded with tumults of a firmament : 
Thy visible music-blasts make deaf the sky. 

Thy cymbals clang to fire the Occident, 
Thou dost thy dying so triumphally : 
I see the crimson blaring of thy shawms ! 

Why do those lucent palms 
Strew thy feet's failing thicklier than their might, 
Who dost but hood thy glorious eyes with night. 
And vex the heels of all the yesterdays ? 
Lo! this loud, lackeying praise 

70 



Will stay behind to greet the usurping moon. Ode to t 

When they have cloud-barred over thee the West. ^^^^^ 

Oh, shake the bright dust from thy parting shoon ! 
The earth not paeans thee, nor serves thy hest. 

Be godded not by Heaven! avert thy face. 
And leave to blank disgrace 

The oblivious world ! unsceptre thee of state and place ! 

Ha ! but bethink thee what thou gazedst on. 

Ere yet the snake Decay had venomed tooth ; 
The name thou bar'st in those vast seasons gone — 
Candid Hyperion, 
Clad in the light of thine immortal youth ! 
Ere Dionysus bled thy vines. 
Or Artemis drave her clamours through the wood. 

Thou saw'st how once against Olympus' height 
The brawny Titans stood. 
And shook the gods' world 'bout their ears, and how 
Enceladus (whom Etna cumbers now) 

Shouldered me Pelion with its swinging pines. 
The river unrecked, that did its broken flood 
Spurt on his back: before the mountainous shock 

The ranked gods dislock. 
Scared to their skies ; wide o'er rout- trampled night 
Flew spurned the pebbled stars : those splendours then 
Had tempested on earth, star upon star 
Mounded in ruin, if a longer war 
Had quaked Olympus and cold-fearing men. 
Then did the ample marge 
And circuit of thy targe 
Sullenly redden all the vaward fight. 
Above the blusterous clash 
Wheeled thy swung falchion's flash. 
And hewed their forces into splintered flight. 

Yet ere Olympus thou wast, and a god ! 
Though we deny thy nod, 
71 



Ode to the We cannot spoil thee of thy divinity. 
Sitil^^ What know we elder than thee ? 

When thou didst, bursting from the great void's husk. 
Leap hke a lion on the throat o' the dusk ; 
When the angels rose-chapleted 

Sang each to other. 
The vaulted blaze overhead 
Of their vast pinions spread. 

Hailing thee brother ; — ^ .^•> 

How chaos rolled back from the wonder. 
And the First Morn knelt down to thy visage of 
thunder ! 

Thou didst draw to thy side 
Thy young Auroral bride. 
And lift her veil of night and mystery ; 
Tellus with baby hands 
Shook oiF her swaddling-bands. 
And from the unswathed vapours laughed to 
thee. 

Thou twi-form deity, nurse at once and sire ! 
Thou genitor that all things nourishest ! 
The earth was suckled at thy shining breast. 
And in her veins is quick thy milky fire. 
Who scarfed her with the morning ? and who set 
Upon her brow the day-fall' s carcanet ? 

Who queened her front with the enrondured moon ? 
Who dug night's jewels from their vaulty mine 
To dower her, past an eastern wizard's dreams. 
When hovering on him through his haschish-swoon. 

All the rained gems of the old Tartarian line 
Shiver in lustrous throbbings of tinged flame ? 
Whereof a moiety in the Paolis' seams 
Statelily builded their Venetian name. 
Thou hast enwoofed her 
An empress of the air, 

72 



And all her births are propertied by thee : Ode to the 

Her teeming centuries Sun"^ 

Drew being from thine eyes : 

Thou fatt'st the marrow of all quality. 

Who lit the furnace of the mammoth's heart? 
Who shagged him like Pilatus' ribbed flanks? 
Who raised the columned ranks 
Of that old pre-diluvian forestry. 
Which like a continent torn oppressed the sea. 
When the ancient heavens did in rains depart. 
While the high-danced whirls 
Of the tossed scud made hiss thy drenched curls ? 
Thou rear'dst the enormous brood ; 
Who hast with life imbued 
The lion maned in tawny majesty. 
The tiger velvet-barred. 
The stealthy-stepping pard. 
And the lithe panther's flexuous symmetry. 

How came the entombed tree a light-bearer. 
Though sunk in lightless lair ? 
Friend of the forgers of earth. 
Mate of the earthquake and thunders volcanic. 
Clasped in the arms of the forces Titanic 
Which rock like a cradle the girth 
Of the ether-hung world ; 
Swart son of the swarthy mine. 
When flame on the breath of his nostrils feeds 
How is his countenance half-divine. 
Like thee in thy sanguine weeds ? 
Thou gavest him his light. 
Though sepultured in night 
Beneath the dead bones of a perished world ; 
Over his prostrate form 
Though cold, and heat, and storm, 
73 



Ode to the The mountainous wrack of a creation hurled. 

^un^^ Who made the splendid rose 

Saturate with purple glows ; 
Cupped to the marge with beauty ; a perfume-press 

Whence the wind vintages 
Gushes of warmed fragrance richer far 

Than all the flavorous ooze of Cyprus' vats ? 
Lo, in yon gale which waves her green cymar. 
With dusky cheeks burnt red 
She sways her heavy head. 
Drunk with the must of her own odorousness ; 

While in a moted trouble the vexed gnats 
Maze, and vibrate, and tease the noontide hush. 

Who girt dissolved lightnings in the grape ? 
Summered the opal with an Irised flush ? 
Is it not thou that dost the tulip drape. 
And huest the daffodilly. 
Yet who hast snowed the lily. 
And her frail sister, whom the waters name. 
Dost vestal-vesture 'mid the blaze of June, 
Cold as the new-sprung girlhood of the moon 
Ere Autumn's kiss sultry her cheek with flame? 
Thou sway' St thy sceptred beam 
O'er all delight and dream. 
Beauty is beautiful but in thy glance : 
And like a jocund maid 
In garland-flowers arrayed. 
Before thy ark Earth keeps her sacred dance. 

And now, O shaken from thine antique throne. 
And sunken from thy coerule empery. 

Now that the red glare of thy fall is blown 
In smoke and flame about the windy sky. 

Where are the wailing voices that should meet 
From hill, stream, grove, and all of mortal shape 

Who tread thy gifts, in vineyards as stray feet 

74 



Pulp the globed weight of juiced Iberia's grape ? Ode to the 
Where is the threne o' the sea ? ^Sun^ 

And why not dirges thee 
The wind, that sings to himself as he makes stride 
Lonely and terrible on the Andean height ? 

Where is the Naiad 'mid her sworded sedge ? 
The Nymph wan-glimmering by her wan fount's ''^'^ 
verge ? 
The Dryad at timid gaze by the wood-side ? 
The Oread jutung light 
On one up-strained sole from the rock-ledge ? 
The Nereid tip-toe on the scud o' the surge. 
With whistling tresses dank athwart her face. 
And all her figure poised in lithe Circean grace ? 
Why withers their lament ? 
Their tresses tear-besprent. 
Have they sighed hence with trailing garment-hem ? 

sweet, O sad, O fair ! 

1 catch your flying hair. 

Draw your eyes down to me, and dream on them ! 

A space, and they fleet from me. Must ye fade — 
O old, essential candours, ye who made 
The earth a living and a radiant thing — 

And leave her corpse in our strained, cheated 

arms ? 
Lo ever thus, when Song with chorded charms 
Draws from dull death his lost Eurydice, 
Lo ever thus, even. at consummating. 
Even in the swooning minute that claims her his. 
Even as he trembles to the impassioned kiss 
Of reincarnate Beauty, his control 
Clasps the cold body, and foregoes the soul ! 
Whatso looks lovelily 
Is but the rainbow on life's weeping rain. 
Why have we longings of immortal pain, 
75 



Ode to the And all we long for mortal ? Woe is me, 
Sun^^ And all our chants but chaplet some decay. 
As mine this vanishing — nay, vanished Day. 
The low sky-line dusks to a leaden hue. 

No rift disturbs the heavy shade and chill. 
Save one, where the charred firmament lets through 
The scorching dazzle of Heaven; 'gainst which 
the hill. 
Out-flattened sombrely. 
Stands black as life against eternity. 
Against eternity ? 
A rifting light in me 
Burns through the leaden broodings of the mind : 
O blessed Sun, thy state 
Uprisen or derogate 
Dafts me no more with doubt ; I seek and find. 



If with exultant tread 

Thou foot the Eastern sea. 
Or like a golden bee 
Sting the West to angry red. 
Thou dost image, thou dost follow 
That King- Maker of Creation, 
Who, ere Hellas hailed Apollo, 
Gave thee, angel-god, thy station ; 
Thou art of Him a type memorial. 

Like Him thou hang'st in dreadful pomp of blood 

Upon thy Western rood ; 
And His stained brow did vail like thine to-night. 
Yet lift once more Its light. 
And, risen, again departed from our ball. 
But when It set on earth arose in Heaven. 
Thus hath He unto death His beauty given : 
And so of all which form inheriteth 

The fall doth pass the rise in worth ; 

76 



For birth hath in itself the germ of death. Ode to the 

But death hath in itself the germ of birth. f^^^/''^ 

It is the falling acorn buds the tree. 

The falling rain that bears the greenery. 

The fern-plants moulder when the ferns arise. 
For there is nothing lives but something dies. 

And there is nothing dies but something Hves. 
Till skies be fugitives. 

Till Time, the hidden root of change, updries. 

Are Birth and Death inseparable on earth ; 

For they are twain yet one, and Death is Birth. 



AFTER-STRAIN 

Now with wan ray that other sun of Song 
Sets in the bleakening waters of my soul : 

One step, and lo ! the Cross stands gaunt and long 
'Twixt me and yet bright skies, a presaged dole. 

Even so, O Cross ! thine is the victory. 

Thy roots are fast within our fairest fields ; 
Brightness may emanate in Heaven from thee. 

Here thy dread symbol only shadow yields. 



Of reaped joys thou art the heavy sheaf 

Which must be lifted, though the reaper groan ; 

Yea, we may cry till Heaven's great ear be deaf. 
But we must bear thee, and must bear alone. 

Vain were a Simon ; of the Antipodes 

Our night not borrows the superfluous day. 

Yet woe to him that from his burden flees ! 
Crushed in the fall of what he cast away. 
77 



Ode to the Therefore, O tender Lady, Queen Mary, 
Sun"^ Thou gentleness that dost enmoss and drape 

The Cross's rigorous austerity. 

Wipe thou the blood from wounds that needs must 
gape. 

' Lo, though suns rise and set, but crosses stay, 
I leave thee ever,' saith she, * light of cheer.' 

'Tis so : yon sky still thinks upon the Day, 
And showers aerial blossoms on his bier. 

Yon cloud with wrinkled fire is edged sharp ; 

And once more welling through the air, ah me ! 
How the sweet viol plains him to the harp. 

Whose panged sobbings throng tumultuously. 

Oh, this Medusa-pleasure with her stings ! 

This essence of all suffering, which is joy ! 
I am not thankless for the spell it brings. 

Though tears must be told down for the charmed 
toy. 

No ; while soul, sky, and music bleed together. 
Let me give thanks even for those griefs in me. 

The restless windward stirrings of whose feather 
Prove them the brood of immortality. 

My soul is quitted of death-neighbouring swoon. 
Who shall not slake her immitigable scars. 

Until she hear * My sister ! ' from the moon. 
And take the kindred kisses of the stars. 



78 




CAPTAIN OF SONG: On a Portrait of 
Coventry Patmore by j. s. sargent, r. a. 

)OOK on him. This is he whose works ye 
know ; 

[Ye have adored, thanked, loved him, — no, 
not him ! 
But that of him which proud portentous woe 
To its own grim 

Presentment was not potent to subdue, 
Nor all the reek of Erebus to dim. 
This, and not him, ye knew. 
Look on him now. Love, worship if ye can. 
The very man. 

Ye may not. He has trod the ways afar. 
The fatal ways of parting and farewell. 
Where all the paths of pained greatness are ; 
Where round and always round 
The abhorred words resound. 
The words accursed of comfortable men, — 
* For ever ' ; and infinite glooms intolerable 
With spacious replication give again. 
And hollow jar. 

The words abhorred of comfortable men. 
You the stern pities of the gods debar 
To drink where he has drunk 
The moonless mere of sighs. 
And pace the places infamous to tell. 
Where God wipes not the tears from any eyes. 
Where-through the ways of dreadful greatness are. 

He knows the perilous rout 
That all those ways about 
Sink into doom, and sinking, still are sunk. 
And if his sole and solemn term thereout 
He has attained, to love ye shall not dare 
One who has journeyed there ; 
79 



A Captain Ye shall mark well 

<y ong rpi^^ mighty cruelties which arm and mar 
That countenance of control. 
With minatory warnings of a soul 
That hath to its own selfhood been most fell. 
And is not weak to spare : 
And lo, that hair 
Is blanched with the travel-heats of hell. 

If any be 

That shall with rites of reverent piety 

Approach this strong 

Sad soul of sovereign Song, 

Nor fail and falter with the intimidate throng ; 

If such there be. 

These, these are only they 

Have trod the self- same way ; 

The never-twice-revolving portals heard 

Behind them clang infernal, and that word 

Abhorred sighed of kind mortality. 

As he — 

Ah, even as he ! 



AGAINST URANIA 

)0 I, Song's most true lover, plain me sore 
)That worse than other women she can deceive, 
For she being goddess, I have given her more 

Than mortal ladies from their loves receive : 

And first of her embrace 

She was not coy, and gracious were her ways. 

That I forgot all virgins to adore ; 

Nor did I greatly grieve 

To bear through arid days 

The pretty foil of her divine delays ; 

80 




irania 



And one by one to cast Against 

Life, love, and health. 

Content, and wealth. 

Before her, thinking ever on her praise. 

Until at last 

Nought had I left she would be gracious for. 

Now of her cozening I complain me sore. 

Seeing her uses. 

That still, more constantly she is pursued. 

And straitlier wooed. 

Her only-adored favour more refuses. 

And leaves me to implore 

Remembered boon in bitterness oi blood. 

From mortal woman thou may'st know full well, 

O poet, that dost deem the fair and tall 

Urania of her ways not mutable. 

When things shall thee befall 

What thou art toiled in her sweet, wild spell. 

Do they strow for thy feet 

A little tender favour and deceit 

Over the sudden mouth of hidden hell ? — 

As more intolerable 

Her pit, as her first kiss is heavenlier-sweet. 

Are they, the more thou sigh. 

Still the more watchful-cruel to deny ? — 

Know this, that in her service thou shalt learn 

How harder than the heart of woman is 

The immortal cruelty 

Of the high goddesses. 

True is his witness who doth witness this. 
Whose gaze too early fell — 
Nor thence shall turn. 

Nor in those fires shall cease to weep and burn — 
Upon her ruinous eyes and ineludible. 
8i 6 




AN ANTHEM OF EARTH 

PRCEMION 

IMMEASURABLE Earth ! 
[Through the loud vast and populacy of Heaven, 
^Tempested w^ith gold schools of ponderous orbs. 
That cleav'st with deep-revolving harmonies 
Passage perpetual, and behind thee draw'st 
A furrow sweet, a cometary wake 
Of trailing music ! What large effluence. 
Not sole the cloudy sighing of thy seas. 
Nor thy blue-coifing air, encases thee 
From prying of the stars, and the broad shafts 
Of thrusting sunlight tempers ? For, dropped near 
From my removed tour in the serene 
Of utmost contemplation, I scent lives. 
This is the efflux of thy rocks and fields. 
And wind- cuffed forestage, and the souls of men. 
And aura of all treaders over thee ; 
A sentient exhalation, wherein close 
The odorous lives of many-throated flowers. 
And each thing's mettle effused ; that so thou wear'st. 
Even like a breather on a frosty morn. 
Thy proper suspiration. For I know. 
Albeit, with custom-dulled perceivingness. 
Nestled against thy breast, my sense not take 
The breathings of thy nostrils, there's no tree. 
No grain of dust, nor no cold-seeming stone. 
But wears a fume of its circumfluous self. 
Thine own life and the Hves of all that live. 
The issue of thy loins. 
Is this thy gaberdine. 

Wherein thou walkest through thy large demesne 
And sphery pleasances, — 
Amazing the unstaled eyes of Heaven, 
And us that still a precious seeing have 
Behind this dim and mortal jelly. 

82 



Ah! An 

If not in all too late and frozen a day opEaHh 

I come in rearward of the throats of song. 

Unto the deaf sense of the aged year 

Singing with doom upon me ; yet give heed ! 

One poet with sick pinion, that still feels 

Breath through the Orient gateways closing fast. 

Fast closing t'ward the undelighted night ! 



In nescientness, in nescientness. 

Mother, we put these fleshly lendings on 

Thau yield' st to thy poor children ; took thy gift 

Of life, which must, in all the after-days. 

Be craved again with tears, — 

With fresh and still-petitionary tears. 

Being once bound thine almsmen for that gift. 

We are bound to beggary, nor our own can call 

The journal dole of customary life. 

But after suit obsequious for't to thee. 

Indeed this flesh, O Mother, 

A beggar's gown, a client's badging. 

We find, which from thy hands we simply took. 

Nought dreaming of the after penury. 

In nescientness. 

In a little joy, in a little joy. 
We wear awhile thy sore insignia. 
Nor know thy heel o' the neck. O Mother ! Mother ! 
Then what use knew I of thy solemn robes. 
But as a child, to play with them ? I bade thee 
Leave thy great husbandries, thy grave designs. 
Thy tedious state which irked my ignorant years. 
Thy winter-watches, suckling of the grain, 
Severe premeditation taciturn 
83 



An Upon the brooded Summer, thy chill cares, 



Anthem 
of Earth 



And all thy ministries majestical. 

To sport with me, thy darling. Thought I not 

Thou set' St thy seasons forth processional 

To pamper me with pageant, — thou thyself 

My fellow-gamester, appanage of mine arms ? 

Then what wild Dionysia I, young Bacchanal, 

Danced in thy lap ! Ah for thy gravity ! 

Then, O Earth, thou rang'st beneath me. 

Rocked to Eastward, rocked to Westward, 

Even with the shifted 

Poise and footing of my thought ! 

I brake through thy doors of sunset. 

Ran before the hooves of sunrise. 

Shook thy matron tresses down in fancies 

Wild and wilful 

As a poet's hand could twine them ; 

Caught in my fantasy's crystal chalice 

The Bow, as its cataract of colours 

Plashed to thee downward ; 

Then when thy circuit swung to nightward. 

Night the abhorred, night was a new dawning. 

Celestial dawning 

Over the ultimate marges of the soul ; 

Dusk grew turbulent with fire before me. 

And hke a windy arras waved with dreams. 

Sleep I took not for my bedfellow. 

Who could waken 

To a revel, an inexhaustible 

Wassail of orgiac imageries ; 

Then while I wore thy sore insignia 

In a little joy, O Earth, in a Htde joy ; 

Loving thy beauty in all creatures born of thee. 

Children, and the sweet-essenced body of woman ; 

Feeling not yet upon my neck thy foot. 

But breathing warm of thee as infants breathe 



New from their mother's morning bosom. So I, An 

Risen from thee, restless winnower of the heaven, opEarth 

Most Hermes-like, did keep 

My vital and resilient path, and felt 

The play of wings about my fledged heel — 

Sure on the verges of precipitous dream. 

Swift in its springing 

From jut to jut of inaccessible fancies. 

In a little joy. 



In a little thought, in a little thought. 

We stand and eye thee in a grave dismay. 

With sad and doubtful questioning, when first 

Thou speak' St to us as men : like sons who hear 

Newly their mother's history, unthought 

Before, and say — * She is not as we dreamed : 

Ah me ! we are beguiled ! ' What art thou, then. 

That art not our conceiving ? Art thou not 

Too old for thy young children ? Or perchance, 

Keep'st thou a youth perpetual-burnishable 

Beyond thy sons decrepit ? It is long 

Since Time was first a fledgling ; 

Yet thou may' St be but as a pendant bulla 

Against his stripling bosom swung. Alack ! 

For that we seem indeed 

To have slipped the world's great leaping- time, and 

come 
Upon thy pinched and dozing days : these v^^eeds. 
These corporal leavings, thou not cast'st us new. 
Fresh from thy craftship, like the lilies' coats. 
But foist' St us off^ 

With hasty tarnished piercings negligent. 
Snippets and waste 
From old ancestral wearings. 
That have seen sorrier usage ; remainder-flesh 
After our father's surfeits ; nay with chinks, 

85 



4w Some of us, that if speech may have free leave 



Anikem 
of Earth 



Our souls go out at elbows. We are sad 
With more than our sires' heaviness, and with 
More than their weakness weak ; we shall not be 
Mighty with all their mightiness, nor shall not 
Rejoice with all their joy. Ay, Mother ! Mother ! 
What is this Man, thy darling kissed and cuffed. 
Thou lustingly engender' st. 
To sweat, and make his brag, and rot. 
Crowned with all honour and all shamefulness ? 
From nightly towers 

He dogs the secret footsteps of the heavens. 
Sifts in his hands the stars, weighs them as gold-dust. 
And yet is he successive unto nothing 
But patrimony of a little mould. 

And entail of four planks. Thou hast made his mouth 
Avid of all dominion and all mightiness. 
All sorrow, all delight, all topless grandeurs. 
All beauty, and all starry majesties. 
And dim transtellar things ; — even that it may. 
Filled in the ending with a puff of dust. 
Confess — * It is enough.' The world left empty 
What that poor mouthful crams. His heart is builded 
For pride, for potency, infinity. 
All heights, all deeps, and all immensities, 
Arrased with purple like the house of kings, — 
To stall the grey-rat, and the carrion-worm 
Statelily lodge. Mother of mysteries ! 
Sayer of dark sayings in a thousand tongues. 
Who bringest forth no saying yet so dark 
As we ourselves, thy darkest ! We the young. 
In a little thought, in a little thought. 
At last confront thee, and ourselves in thee. 
And wake disgarmented of glory : as one 
On a mount standing, and against him stands. 
On the mount adverse, crowned with westering rays, 

86 



The golden sun, and they two brotherly ^« , 

^ ° 1 , ^ ' Anthem 

Gaze each on each ; of Earth 

He faring down 

To the dull vale, his Godhead peels from him. 

Till he can scarcely spurn the pebble — 

For nothingness of new-found mortality — 

That mutinies against his galled foot. 

Littly he sets him to the daily way. 

With all around the valleys growing grave. 

And known things changed and strange ; but he 

holds on. 

Though all the land of light be widowed, 

In a little thought. 

In a little strength, in a little strength. 
We affront thy unveiled face intolerable. 
Which yet we do sustain. 
Though I the Orient never more shall feel 
Break like a clash of cymbals, and my heart 
Clang through my shaken body like a gong ; 
Nor ever more with spurted feet shall tread 
r the winepresses of song ; nought's truly lost 
That moulds to sprout forth gain : now I have on me 
The high Phoebean priesthood, and that craves 
An unrash utterance ; not with flaunted hem 
May the Muse enter in behind the veil. 
Nor, though we hold the sacred dances good. 
Shall the holy Virgins maenadize : ruled lips 
Befit a votaress Muse. 

Thence with no mutable, nor no gelid love, 
I keep, O Earth, thy worship. 
Though life slow, and the sobering Genius change 
To a lamp his gusty torch. What though no more 
Athwart its roseal glow 

Thy face look forth triumphal ? Thou put'st on 
Strange sanctities of pathos; like this knoll 
87 



An Made derelict of day, 

of Earth Couchant and shadowed 

Under dim Vesper's overloosened hair : 

This, where embossed with the half-blown seed 

The solemn purple thistle stands in grass 

Grey as an exhalation, when the bank 

Holds mist for water in the nights of Fall. 

Not to the boy, although his eyes be pure 

As the prime snowdrop is. 

Ere the rash Phcebus break her cloister 

Of sanctimonious snow ; 

Or Winter fasting sole on Himalay 

Since those dove-nuncioed days 

When Asia rose from bathing ; 

Not to such eyes, 

Uneuphrasied with tears, the hierarchical 

Vision lies unoccult, rank under rank 

Through all create down- wheeling, from the Throne 

Even to the bases of the pregnant ooze. 

This is the enchantment, this the exaltation. 

The all-compensating wonder. 

Giving to common things wild kindred 

With the gold-tesserate floors of Jove; 

Linking such heights and such humilities 

Hand in hand in ordinal dances. 

That I do think my tread. 

Stirring the blossoms in the meadow-grass. 

Flickers the unwithering stars. 

This to the shunless fardel of the world 

Nerves my uncurbed back ; that I endure. 

The monstrous Temple's moveless caryatid. 

With wide eyes calm upon the whole of things. 

In a litde strength. 

In a little sight, in a litde sight. 

We learn from what in thee is credible 



The incredible, with bloody clutch and feet An 

Clinging the painful juts of jagged faith. f/Ea!^h 

Science, old noser in its prideful straw. 

That with anatomising scalpel tents 

Its three-inch of thy skin, and brags — * All 's bare,' 

The eyeless worm, that boring works the soil. 

Making it capable for the crops of God ; 

Against its own dull will 

Ministers poppies to our troublous thought, 

A Balaam come to prophecy, — parables. 

Nor of its parable itself is ware. 

Grossly unwotting ; all things has expounded 

Reflux and influx, counts the sepulchre 

The seminary of being, and extinction 

The Ceres of existence : it discovers 

Life in putridity, vigour in decay ; 

Dissolution even, and disintegration. 

Which in our dull thoughts symbolise disorder. 

Finds in God's thoughts irrefragable order. 

And admirable the manner of our corruption 

As of our health. It grafts upon the cypress 

The tree of Life — Death dies on his own dart ; 

Promising to our ashes perpetuity. 

And to our perishable elements 

Their proper imperishability ; extracting 

Medicaments from out mortality 

Against too mortal cogitation ; till 

Even of the caput mortum we do thus 

Make a memento vivere. To such uses 

I put the blinding knowledge of the fool. 

Who in no order seeth ordinance ; 

Nor thrust my arm in nature shoulder-high. 

And cry — * There 's nought beyond ! ' How should 

I so. 
That cannot with these arms of mine engirdle 
All which I am ; that am a foreigner 

89 



^« In mine own region ? Who the chart shall draw 

opEarth ^^ ^^ Strange courts and vaulty labyrinths. 
The spacious tenements and wide pleasances 
Innumerable corridors far-withdrawn. 
Where I wander darkling, of myself? 
Darkling I wander, nor I dare explore 
The long arcane ol those dim catacombs. 
Where the rat memory does its burrows make. 
Close-seal them as I may, and my stolen tread 
Starts populace, a gens lucifuga ; 
That too strait seems my mind my mind to hold. 
And I myself incontinent of me. 
Then go I, my foul-venting ignorance 
With scabby sapience plastered, aye forsooth ! 
Clap my wise foot-rule to the walls o' the world. 
And vow — A goodly houses hut something ancient y 
And I can find no Master ? Rather, nay. 
By baffled seeing, something I divine 
Which baffles, and a seeing set beyond ; 
And so with strenuous gazes sounding down. 
Like to the day-long porer on a stream. 
Whose last look is his deepest, I beside 
This slow perpetual Time stand patiently. 
In a little sight. 

In a little dust, in a little dust. 

Earth, thou reclaim' st us, who do all our lives 

Find of thee but Egyptian villeinage. 

Thou dost this body, this enhavocked realm. 

Subject to ancient and ancestral shadows ; 

Descended passions sway it ; it is distraught 

With ghostly usurpation, dinned and fretted 

With the still-tyrannous dead ; a haunted tenement. 

Peopled from barrows and outworn ossuaries. 

Thou giv'st us life not half so willingly 

As thou undost thy giving ; thou that teem'st 

90 



The stealthy terror of the sinuous pard. An 

The lion maned with curled puissance, of Earth 

The serpent, and all fair strong beasts of ravin. 

Thyself most fair and potent beast of ravin ; 

And thy great eaters thou, the greatest, eat'st. 

Thou hast devoured mammoth and mastodon. 

And many a floating bank of fangs. 

The scaly scourges of thy primal brine. 

And the tower-crested plesiosaure. 

Thou iill'st thy mouth with nations, gorgest slow 

On purple £eons of kings ; man's hulking towers 

Are carcase for thee, and to modern sun 

Disglutt'st their splintered bones. 

Rabble of Pharaohs and Arsacidze 

Keep their cold house within thee j thou hast sucked 

down 
How many Ninevehs and Hecatompyloi, 
And perished cities whose great phantasmata 
O'erbrow the silent citizens of Dis : — 
Hast not thy fill ? 

Tarry awhile, lean Earth, for thou shalt drink. 
Even till thy dull throat sicken. 

The draught thou grow'st most fat on ; hear'st thou not 
The world's knives bickering in their sheaths? O 

patience ! 
Much offal of a foul world comes thy way. 
And man's superfluous cloud shall soon be laid 
In a little blood. 

In a little peace, in a little peace, 

Thou dost rebate thy rigid purposes 

Of imposed being, and relenting, mend*st 

Too much, with nought. The westering Phoebus' 

horse 
Paws i' the lucent dust as when he shocked 
The East with rising ; O how may I trace 

91 



An In this decline that morning when we did 

opEarth Sport 'twixt the claws of newly-whelped existence. 
Which had not yet learned rending ? we did then 
Divinely stand, not knowing yet against us 
Sentence had passed of life, nor commutation 
Petitioning into death. What's he that of 
The Free State argues ? Tellus ! bid him stoop. 
Even where the low hie j ace t answers him ; 
Thus low, O Man ! there's freedom's seignory, 
Tellus' most reverend sole free commonweal. 
And model deeply-policied : there none 
Stands on precedence, nor ambitiously 
Woos the impartial worm, whose favours kiss 
With liberal largesse all ; there each is free 
To be e'en what he must, which here did strive 
So much to be he could not ; there all do 
Their uses just, with no flown questioning. 
To be took by the hand of equal earth 
They doff her livery, slip to the worm. 
Which lacqueys them, their suits of maintenance. 
And that soiled workaday apparel cast. 
Put on condition : Death's ungentle buffet 
Alone makes ceremonial manumission ; 
So are the heavenly statutes set, and those 
Uranian tables of the primal Law. 
In a little peace, in a little peace. 
Like fierce beasts that a common thirst makes brothers, 
We draw together to one hid dark lake ; 
In a little peace, in a little peace. 
We drain with all our burthens of dishonour 
Into the cleansing sands o' the thirsty grave. 
The fiery pomps, brave exhalations. 
And all the glistering shows o' the seeming world. 
Which the sight aches at, we unwinking see 
Through the smoked glass of Death ; Death, where- 

92 



The muddy wine of life ; that earth doth purge ^^ 

Of her plethora of man ; Death, that doth flush of Earth 

The cumbered gutters of humanity ; 

Nothing, of nothing king, with front uncrowned. 

Whose hand holds crownets ; playmates swart o' the 

strong ; 
Tenebrous moon that flux and refluence draws 
Of the high-tided man ; skull-housed asp 
That stings the heel of kings ; true Fount of Youth, 
Where he that dips is deathless ; being's drone-pipe ; 
Whose nostril turns to blight the shrivelled stars. 
And thicks the lusty breathing of the sun ; 
Pontifical Death, that doth the crevasse bridge 
To the steep and trifid God ; one mortal birth 
That broker is of immortality. 
Under this dreadful brother uterine. 
This kinsman feared, Tellus, behold me come. 
Thy son stern-nursed ; who mortal-motherlike. 
To turn thy weanlings' mouth averse, embitter'st 
Thine over-childed breast. Now, mortal-sonlike, 
I thou hast suckled. Mother, I at last 
Shall sustenant be to thee. Here I untrammel. 
Here I pluck loose the body's cerementing, 
And break the tomb of life ; here I shake oiF 
The bur o' the world, man's congregation shun. 
And to the antique order of the dead 
I take the tongueless vows : my cell is set 
Here in thy bosom ; my little trouble is ended 
In a little peace. 



93 



MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 



95 




EX ORE INFANTIUM' 

iITTLE Jesus, wast Thou shy- 
Once, and just so small as I ? 
And what did it feel like to be 
Out of Heaven, and just like me ? 
Didst Thou sometimes think of there. 

And ask where all the angels were ? 

I should think that I would cry 

For my house all made of sky ; 

I would look about the air. 

And wonder where my angels were ; 

And at waking ' twould distress me — 

Not an angel there to dress me ! 

Hadst Thou ever any toys. 

Like us little girls and boys ? 

And didst Thou play in Heaven with all 

The angels that were not too tall. 

With stars for marbles ? Did the things 

Play Can you see me ? through their wings ? 

And did Thy Mother let Thee spoil 

Thy robes, with playing on our soil ? 

How nice to have them always new 

In Heaven, because 'twas quite clean blue ! 

Didst Thou kneel at night to pray. 
And didst Thou join Thy hands, this way ? 
And did they tire sometimes, being young. 
And make the prayer seem very long ? 
And dost Thou like it best, that we 
Should join our hands to pray to Thee ? 
I used to think, before I knew. 
The prayer not said unless we do. 
And did Thy Mother at the night 
Kiss Thee, and fold the clothes in right ? 
And didst Thou feel quite good in bed. 
Kissed, and sweet, and Thy prayers said ? 
97 7 



' Ex Ore Thou canst not have forgotten all 

Infantium^ That it feels like to be small : 

And Thou know'st I cannot pray- 
To Thee in my father's way — 
When Thou wast so little, say, 
Couldst Thou talk Thy Father's way? — 
So, a little Child come down 
And hear a child's tongue like Thy own; 
Take me by the hand and walk. 
And listen to my baby-talk. 
To Thy father show my prayer 
(He will look. Thou art so fair). 
And say : * O Father, I, Thy Son, 
Bring the prayer of a little one.' 

And He will smile, that children' s tongue 
Has not changed since Thou wast young ! 



QUESTION 

BIRD with heart of wassail. 

That toss the Bacchic branch. 
And slip your shaken music. 
An elfin avalanche ; 

Come tell me, O tell me. 

My poet of the blue ! 
What 's your thought of me. Sweet ? — 

Here 's my thought of you. 

A small thing, a wee thing, 

A brown fleck of nought ; 
With winging and singing 

That who could have thought ? 

98 




A small thing, a wee thing, A Question 

A brown amaze withal. 
That fly a pitch more azure 

Because you 're so small. 

Bird, I 'm a small thing — 

My angel descries ; 
With winging and singing 

That who could surmise ? 

Ah, small things, ah, wee things. 

Are the poets all. 
Whose tour 's the more azure 

Because they 're so small. 

The angels hang watching 

The tiny men-things : — 
'The dear speck of flesh, see. 

With such daring wings ! 

* Come, tell us, O tell us. 

Thou strange mortality ! 
What 's thy thought of us. Dear ? — 
Here 's our thought of thee.' 

* Alack ! you tall angels, 

I can't think so high ! 
I can't think what it feels like 
Not to be I. ' 

Come tell me, O tell me. 

My poet of the blue ! 
What 's your thought of me. Sweet ? — 

Here 's my thought of you. 
99 

LOrC. 




FIELD-FLOWER 

A PHANTASY 

|OD took a fit of Paradise- wind, 

A slip of coerule weather, 
iA thought as simple as Himself, 
And ravelled them together. 
Unto His eyes He held it there. 
To teach it gazing debonair 

With memory of what, perdie, 
A God's young innocences were. 
His fingers pushed it through the sod — 
It came up redolent of God, 
Garrulous of the eyes of God 
To all the breezes near it ; 
Musical of the mouth of God 
To all had eyes to hear it ; 
Mystical with the mirth of God, 
That glow-like did ensphere it. 

And— * Babble! babble ! babble ! ' said, 

* P II tell the whole world one day!* 
There was no blossom half so glady 
Since sun of Chrises first Sunday. 



A poet took a flaw of pain, 

A hap of skiey pleasure, 
A thought had in his cradle lain. 

And mingled them in measure. 
That chrism he laid upon his eyes, 
And lips, and heart, for euphrasies. 

That he might see, feel, sing, perdie. 
The simple things that are the wise. 
Beside the flower he held his ways. 
And leaned him to it gaze for gaze — 
He took its meaning, gaze for gaze. 

As baby looks on baby ; 

lOO 



Its meanino; passed into his gaze, Field- 

Native as meaning may be ; 
He rose with all his shining gaze 
As children's eyes at play be. 

A7id— * Babble ! babble I babble ! ' said; 

' Pll tell the whole world one day ! ' 
There was no poet half so glad. 
Since man grew God that Sunday. 



THE CLOUD'S SWAN-SONG 

^^HERE is a parable in the pathless cloud, 

'There 's prophecy in heaven, — they did not 
lie. 
The Chaldee shepherds ; sealed from the proud. 
To cheer the weighted heart that mates the seeing eye. 

A lonely man, oppressed with lonely ills 

And all the glory fallen from my song. 

Here do I walk among the windy hills. 

The wind and I keep both one monotoning tongue. 

Like grey clouds one by one my songs upsoar 
Over my soul's cold peaks ; and one by one 
They loose their little rain, and are no more ; 
And whether well or ill, to tell me there is none. 

For 'ds an alien tongue, of alien things. 
From all men's care, how miserably apart ! 
Even my friends say : * Of what is this he sings ? ' 
And barren is my song, and barren is my heart. 

For who can work, unwitting his work's worth ? 
Better, meseems, to know the work for naught. 
Turn my sick course back to the kindly earth, 
And leave to ampler plumes the jetting tops of thought. 

lOI 



The And visitations, that do often use, 

S"li.«,o- Remote, unhappy, inauspicious sense 

Of doom, and poets widowed of their muse. 

And what dark 'gan, dark ended, in me did commence. 

I thought of spirit wronged by mortal ills. 

And my flesh rotting on my fate' s dull stake ; 

And how self-scorned they the bounty fills 

Of others, and the bread, even of their dearest, take. 

I thought of Keats, that died in perfect time. 
In predecease of his just-sickening song ; 
Of him that set, wrapt in his radiant rhyme. 
Sunlike in sea. Life longer had been life too long. 

But I, exanimate of quick Poesy, — 

O then, no more but even a soulless corse ! 

Nay, my Delight dies not ; 't is I should be 

Her dead, a stringless harp on which she had no force. 

Of my wild lot I thought ; from place to place, 

Apollo's song-bowed Scythian, I go on ; 

Making in all my home, with pliant ways. 

But, provident of change, putting forth root in none. 

Now, with starved brain, sick body, patience galled 

With fardels even to wincing ; from fair sky 

Fell sudden little rain, scarce to be called 

A shower, which of the instant was gone wholly by. 

What cloud thus died I saw not ; heaven was fair. 
Methinks my angel plucked my locks : I bowed 
My spirit, shamed ; and looking in the air : — 
'Even so,' I said, * even so, my brother the good 
Cloud ? ' 

102 



It was a pilgrim of the fields of air. The 

Its home was allwheres the wind left it rest, Swan-Song 

And in a little forth again did fare. 

And in all places was a stranger and a guest. 

It harked all breadis of heaven, and did obey 
With sweet peace their uncomprehended wills ; 
It knew the eyes of stars which made no stay. 
And with the thunder walked upon the lonely hills. 

And from the subject earth it seemed to scorn. 
It drew the sustenance whereby it grew 
Perfect in bosom for the married Morn, 
And of his life and light full as a maid kissed new. 

Its also darkness of the face withdrawn. 

And the long waiting for the little light, 

So long in life so little. Like a fawn 

It fled with tempest breathing hard at heel of flight ; 

And having known full East, did not disdain 
To sit in shadow and oblivious cold. 
Save what all loss doth of its loss retain. 
And who hath held hath somewhat that he still must 
hold. 

Right poet ! who thy rightness to approve. 
Having all liberty, didst keep all measure. 
And with a firmament for ranging, move 
But at the heavens' uncomprehended pleasure. 

With amplitude unchecked, how sweetly thou 
Didst wear the ancient custom of the skies. 
And yoke of used prescripdon ; and thence how 
Find gay variety no license could devise ! 
103 



The ^ As we the quested beauties better wit 
Swan-Song ^^ ^^ °^^ grove our own than forests great. 
Restraint, by the delighted search of it. 
Turns to right scope. For lovely moving intricate 

Is put to fair devising in the curb 
Of ordered limit; and all-changeful Hermes 
Is Terminus as well. Yet we perturb 
Our souls for latitude, whose strength in bound and 
term is. 

How far am I from heavenly liberty. 
That play at policy with change and fate. 
Who should my soul from foreign broils keep free. 
In the fast-guarded frontiers of its single state ! 

Could I face firm the Is, and with To-be 

Trust Heaven ; to Heaven commit the deed, and do ; 

In power contained, calm in infirmity. 

And fit myself to change with virtue ever new ; 

Thou hadst not shamed me, cousin of the sky. 
Thou wandering kinsman, that didst sweetly live 
Unnoted, and unnoted sweetly die. 
Weeping more gracious song than any I can weave ; 

Which these gross-tissued words do sorely wrong. 
Thou hast taught me on powerlessness a power ; 
To make song wait on life, not life on song ; 
To hold sweet not too sweet, and bread for bread 
though sour ; 

By law to wander, to be strictly free. 
With tears ascended from the heart's sad sea. 
Ah, such a silver song to Death could I 
Sing, Pain would list, forgetting Pain to be. 
And death would tarry marvelling, and forget to die ! 

104 




TO THE SINKING SUN 

lOW graciously thou wear'st the yoke 

Of use that does not fail ! 
(The grasses, hke an anchored smoke. 
Ride in the bending gale ; 
This knoll is snowed with blosmy manna. 
And iire-dropt as a seraph's mail. 

Here every eve thou stretchest out 

Untarnishable wing. 
And marvellously bring' st about 

Newly an olden thing ; 
Nor ever through like-ordered heaven 

Moves largely thy grave progressing. 

Here every eve thou goest down 

Behind the self-same hill. 
Nor ever twice alike go'st down 

Behind the self-same hill ; 
Nor like-ways is one flame-sopped flower 

Possessed with glory past its will. 

Not twice alike ! I am not blind. 

My sight is live to see ; 
And yet I do complain of thy 

Weary variety. 
O Sun ! I ask thee less or more. 

Change not at all, or utterly ! 

O give me unprevisioned new. 

Or give to change reprieve ! 
For new in me is olden too. 

That I for sameness grieve. 
O flowers ! O grasses ! be but once 

The grass and flower of yester-eve ! 



To the 

Sinking 

Sun 



Wonder and sadness are the lot 

Of change : thou yield'st mine eyes 

Grief of vicissitude, but not 
Its penetrant surprise. 

Immutability mutable 

Burthens my spirit and the skies. 



O altered joy, all joyed of yore. 
Plodding in unconned ways ! 

grief grieved out, and yet once more 
A dull, new, staled amaze ! 

1 dream, and all was dreamed before. 

Or dream I so ? the dreamer says. 




GRIEF'S HARMONICS 

iT evening, when the lank and rigid trees, 
I To the mere forms of their sweet day-selves 
drying. 
On heaven's blank leaf seem pressed and flattened ; 
Or rather, to my sombre thoughts replying, 
Of plumes funereal the thin effigies ; 
That hour when all old dead things seem most dead. 
And their death instant most and most undying. 
That the flesh aches at them ; there stirred in me 
The babe of an unborn calamity. 
Ere its due time to be delivered. 
Dead sorrow and sorrow unborn so blent their pain. 
That which more present was were hardly said. 
But both more now than any Now can be. 
My soul like sackcloth did her body rend. 
And thus with Heaven contend : — 
* Let pass the chalice of this coming dread. 
Or that fore-drained O bid me not re-drain ! ' 

1 06 




So have I asked, who know my asking vain. Griefs 

_-.. . . . 1 ' Harmo7iics 

Woe against woe in antiphon set over. 

That grief's soul transmigrates, and lives again. 

And in new pang old pang's incarnated. 



MEMORAT MEMORIA 

OME you living or dead to me, out of the 
silt of the Past, 

With the sweet of the piteous first, and the 
shame of the shameful last ? 
Come with your dear and dreadful face through the 

passes of Sleep, 
The terrible mask, and the face it masked — the face 

you did not keep ? 
You are neither two nor one — I would you were 

one or two. 
For your awful self is embalmed in the fragrant self I 

knew : 
And Above may ken, and Beneath may ken, what I 

mean by these words of whirl. 
But my sleep that sleepeth not, — O Shadow of a 

Girl ! — 
Nought here but I and my dreams shall know the 

secret of this thing : — 
For ever the songs I sing are sad with the songs I 

never sing. 
Sad are sung songs, but how more sad the songs we 

dare not sing ! 
Ah, the ill that we do in tenderness, and the hateful 

horror of love ! 
It has sent more souls to the unslaked Pit than it ever 

will draw above. 
I damned you, girl, with my pity, who had better by 

far been thwart, 
107 



Memorat And drave you hard on the track to hell, because I was 
Mcmoria gentle of heart. 

I shall have no comfort now in scent, no ease in dew, 

for this ; 
I shall be afraid of daffodils, and rose-buds are amiss ; 
You have made a thing of innocence as shameful as a 

sin, 
I shall never feel a girl's soft arms without horror of 

the skin. 
My child ! what was it that I sowed, that I so ill 

should reap ? 
You have done this to me. And I, what I to you ? 

It lies with Sleep. 



JULY FUGITIVE 

AN you tell me where has hid her 

Pretty Maid July ? 
I would swear one day ago 
She passed by, 
I would swear that I do know 

The blue bliss of her eye : 
• Tarry, maid, maid,' I bid her ; 

But she hastened by. 
Do you know where she has hid her t 
Maid July ? 

Yet in truth it needs must be 

The flight of her is old ; 
Yet in truth it needs must be. 

For her nest, the earth, is cold. 
No more in the pooled Even 

Wade her rosy feet. 
Dawn-flakes no more plash from them 

To poppies 'mid the wheat. 

108 




She has muddied the day's oozes J-^h 

With her petulant feet ; i^^^V^t.^ 

Scared the clouds that floated. 

As sea-birds they were. 
Slow on the coerule 

Lulls of the air. 
Lulled on the luminous 

Levels of air : 
She has chidden in a pet 

All her stars from her ; 

Now they wander loose and sigh 

Through the turbid blue. 
Now they wander, weep, and cry — 

Yea, and I too — 
* Where are you, sweet July, 

Where are you ? ' 

Who hath beheld her footprints. 

Or the pathway she goes ? 
Tell me, wind, tell me, wheat. 

Which of you knows ? 
Sleeps she swathed in the flushed Arctic 

Night of the rose ? 
Or lie her limbs like Alp-glow 

On the lily's snows? 
Gales, that are all- visitant. 

Find the runaway ; 
And for him who findeth her 

(I do charge you say) 
I will throw largesse of broom 

Of this summer's mintage, 
I will broach a honey-bag 

Of the bee's best vintage. 
Breezes, wheat, flowers sweet 

None of them knows ! 
109 



July How then shall we lure her back 

""^^ '^^ From the way she goes ? 

For it were a shameful thing, 
Saw we not this comer 
Ere Autumn camp upon the fields 
Red with rout of Summer. 



When the bird quits the cage. 

We set the cage outside. 
With seed and with water. 

And the door wide. 
Haply we may win it so 

Back to abide. 
Hang her cage of earth out 

O'er Heaven's sunward wall. 
Its four gates open, winds in watch 

By reined cars at all ; 
Relume in hanging hedgerows 

The rain-quenched blossom. 
And roses sob their tears out 

On the gale's warm heaving bosom ; 



Shake the lilies till their scent 

Over-drip their rims ; 
That our runaway may see 

We do know her whims : 
Sleek the tumbled waters out 

For her travelled limbs ; 
Strew and smooth blue night thereon. 

There will — O not doubt her ! — 
The lovely sleepy lady lie. 

With all her stars about her ! 



no 



TO A SNOW-FLAKE 

IHAT heart could have thought you? 




Past our devisal 

(O filigree petal !) 
Fashioned so purely, 
Fragilely, surely. 
From what Paradisal 
Imagineless metal. 
Too costly for cost ? 
Who hammered you, wrought you. 
From argentine vapour ? — 
* God was my shaper. 
Passing surmisal. 

He hammered. He wrought me. 
From curled silver vapour. 
To lust of His mind ; — 
Thou could'st not have thought me ! 
So purely, so palely, 
Tinily, surely. 
Mightily, fi-ailly, 
Insculped and embossed. 
With His hammer of wind. 
And His graver of frost/ 



NOCTURN 

" WALK, I only. 
Not I only wake; 
!Nothing is, this sweet night. 
But doth couch and wake 
For its love's sake ; 
Everything, this sweet night. 
Couches with its mate. 
For whom but for the stealthy-visitant sun 
Is the naked moon 
III 




Nocturn Tremulous and elate ? 

The heaven hath the earth 

Its own and all apart ; 

The hushed pool holdeth 

A star to its heart. 

You may think the rose sleepeth. 

But though she folded is. 

The wind doubts her sleeping ; 

Not all the rose sleeps. 

But smiles in her sweet heart 

For crafty bliss. 

The wind lieth with the rose. 

And when he stirs, she stirs in her repose : 

The wind hath the rose. 

And the rose her kiss. 

Ah, mouth of me ! 

Is it then that this 

Seemeth much to thee ? — 

I wander only. 

The rose hath her kiss. 



MAY BURDEN 

i^HROUGH meadow-ways as I did tread, 
|The corn grew in great lustihead, 
,And hey ! the beeches burgeoned. 
By Goddes fay, by Goddes fay ! 
It is the month, the jolly month. 
It is the jolly month of May. 

God ripe the wines and corn, I say. 
And wenches for the marriage-day. 
And boys to teach love's comely play. 
By Goddes fay, by Goddes fay ! 
It is the month, the jolly month. 
It is the jolly month of May. 

112 




As I went down by lane and lea. 
The daisies reddened so, pardie ! 
* Blushets ! ' I said, * I well do see. 

By Goddes fay, by Goddes fay ! 
The thing ye think of in this month, 
Heigho ! this jolly month of May.' 

As down I went by rye and oats. 
The blossoms smelt of kisses ; throats 
Of birds turned kisses into notes ; 

By Goddes fay, by Goddes fay ! 
The kiss it is a growing flower, 
I trow, this jolly month of May ! 

God send a mouth to every kiss. 
Seeing the blossom of this bliss 
By gathering doth grow, certes ! 

By Goddes fay, by Goddes fay ! 
Thy brow-garland pushed all aslant 
Tells — but I tell not, wanton May ! 

Note, The first two stanzas are from a French 
original — I have forgotten what. 



A May 
Burden 



A DEAD ASTRONOMER 

(father perry, S. J.) 
'TARRY amorist, starward gone, 
nThou art — what thou didst gaze upon ! 
Passed through thy golden garden's bars. 
Thou seest the Gardener of the Stars. 




She, about whose. mooned brows 
Seven stars make seven glows. 
Seven lights for seven woes ; 

113 8 



A Dead She, like thine own Galaxy, 

Astronomer ^^^ j^^^^^^ -^ ^^^ p^^.^^^ . _ 

What said'st thou. Astronomer. 
When thou didst discover her P 
When thy hand its tube let fall. 
Thou found' st the fairest Star of all ! 



CHOSE VUE 

A METRICAL CAPRICE 

fP she rose, fair daughter — well she was graced 




As a cloud her going, stept from her chair, 
'As a summer-soft cloud, in her going paced, 

Down dropped her riband-band, and all her waving 
hair 

Shook like loosened music, cadent to her waist ; — 

Lapsing like music, wavery as water. 
Slid to her waist. 



'WHERETO ART THOU COME?' 

;RIEND, whereto art thou come?* Thus 

Verity ; 
, Of each that to the world's sad Olivet 
Comes with no multitude, but alone by night. 
Lit with the one torch of his lifted soul. 
Seeking her that he may lay hands on her ; 
Thus : and waits answer from the mouth of deed. 
Truth is a maid, whom men woo diversely ; 
This, as a spouse ; that, as a light-o'-love. 
To know, and having known, to make his brag. 
But woe to him that takes the immortal kiss. 
And not estates her in his housing life, 

114 




Mother of all his seed ! So he betrays, ' Whereto 



Art Thou 




Not Truth, the unbetrayable, but himself: Come? 

And with his kiss's rated traitor-craft. 
The Haceldama of a plot of days 
He buys, to consummate his Judasry 
Therein with Judas' guerdon of despair. 



HEAVEN AND HELL 

i^IS said there were no thought of hell 

Save hell were taught; that there should be 
'A Heaven for all 's self-credible. 
Not so the thing appears to me. 
*Tis Heaven that lies beyond our sights. 

And hell too possible that proves ; 
For all can feel the God that smites. 

But ah, how few the God that loves ! 



TO A CHILD 

HENAS my Ufe shall time with funeral tread 
The heavy death-drum of the beaten hours. 
Following, sole mourner, mine own manhood 
head. 
Poor forgot corse, where not a maid strows flowers ; 
When I you love am no more I you love. 
But go with unsubservient feet, behold 
Your dear face through changed eyes, all grim change 

prove ; — 
A new man, mocked with misname of old ; 
When shamed Love keep his ruined lodging, elf! 
When, ceremented in mouldering memory. 
Myself is hearsed underneath myself. 
And I am but the monument of me : — 

O to that tomb be tender then, which bears 
Only the name of him it sepulchres ! 
"5 





HERMES 

[OOTHSAY. Behold, with rod twy-ser- 

pented, 
, Hermes the prophet, twining in one power 
The woman with the man. Upon his head 
The cloudy cap, wherewith he hath in dower 
The cloud's own virtue — change and counterchange. 
To show in light, and to withdraw in pall. 
As mortal eyes best bear. His lineage strange 
From Zeus, Truth' s sire, and maiden May — the all- 
Illusive Nature. His fledged feet declare 
That 'tis the nether self transdeified. 
And the thrice-furnaced passions, which do bear 
The poet Olympusward. In him allied 

Both parents clasp ; and from the womb of 

Nature 
Stern Truth takes flesh in shows of lovely feature. 



HOUSE OF BONDAGE 

I HEN I perceive Love's heavenly reaping still 
I Regard perforce the clouds' vicissitude, 
(That the fixed spirit loves not when it will. 
But craves its seasons of the flawful blood ; 
When I perceive that the high poet doth 
Oft voiceless stray beneath the uninfluent stars. 
That even Urania of her kiss is loath. 
And Song's brave wings fret on their sensual bars ; 
When I perceived the fullest-sailed sprite 
Lag at most need upon the lethed seas. 
The provident captainship oft voided quite. 
And lamed lie deep-draughted argosies ; 

I scorn myself, that put for such strange toys 
The wit of man to purposes of boys. 

ii6 




II House of 

Bondage 
The spirit's ark sealed with a little clay. 

Was old ere Memphis grew a memory ; ^ 

The hand pontifical to break away 

That seal what shall surrender ? Not the sea 

Which did englut great Egypt and his war. 

Nor all the desert-drowned sepulchres. 

Love's feet are stained with clay and travel-sore. 

And dusty are Song's lucent wing and hairs. 

O Love, that must do courtesy to decay. 

Eat hasty bread standing with loins up-girt. 

How shall this stead thy feet for their sore way ^ 

Ah, Song, what brief embraces balm thy hurt ! 
Had Jacob's toil full guerdon, casting his 
Twice-seven heaped years to burn in Rachel's 
kiss ? 



THE HEART 

TWO SONNETS 

(To my Critic, who had objected to the phrase — < The 
heart's burning floors.') ' 

I 
!HE heart you hold too small and local thing, 
|Such spacious terms of edifice to bear. 
And yet, since Poesy first shook out her wing. 

The mighty Love has been impalaced there ; 

That has she given him as his wide demesne. 

And for his sceptre ample empery ; 

Against its door to knock has Beauty been 

Content ; it has its purple canopy 

^ The Ark of the Egyptian temple was sealed with 
clay; which the Pontiff-King broke when he entered the 
inner shrine to offer worship. 
117 




The Heart A dais for the sovereign lady spread 

Of many a lover, who the heaven would think 
Too low an awning for her sacred head. 
The world, from star to sea, cast down its brink — 
Yet shall that chasm, till He Who these did build 
An awful Curtius make Him, yawn unfilled. 



O nothing, in this corporal earth of man. 
That to the imminent heaven of his high soul 
Responds with colour and with shadow, can 
Lack correlated greatness. If the scroll 
Where thoughts lie fast in spell of hieroglyph 
Be mighty through its mighty habitants ; 
If God be in His Name ; grave potence if 
The sounds unbind of hieratic chants ; 
All's vast that vastness means. Nay, I affirm 
Nature is whole in her least things exprest. 
Nor know we with what scope God builds the worm. 
Our towns are copied fragments from our breast ; 
And all man's Babylons strive but to impart 
The grandeurs of his Babylonian heart. 



A SUNSET 

FROM Hugo's * feuilles d'automne * 
LOVE the evenings, passionless and fair, I 
love the evens, 
)Whether old manor-fronts their ray with 
golden fulgence leavens. 
In numerous leafage bosomed close ; 
Whether the mist in reefs of fire extend its reaches 

sheer. 
Or a hundred sunbeams splinter in an azure atmo- 
sphere 

On cloudy archipelagos. 

.118 




Oh gaze ye on the firmament ! a hundred clouds in A Sunset 

motion. 
Up-piled in the immense sublime beneath the winds' 
commotion. 

Their unimagined shapes accord : 
Under their waves at intervals flames a pale levin 

through. 
As if some giant of the air amid the vapours drew 
A sudden elemental sword. 

The sun at bay with splendid thrusts still keeps the 

sullen fold ; 
And momently at distance sets, as a cupola of gold. 

The thatched roof of a cot a-glance ; 
Or on the blurred horizons joins his battle with the 

haze ; 
Or pools the glooming fields about with inter-isolate 
blaze. 

Great moveless meres of radiance. 

Then mark you how there hangs athwart the firma- 
ment's swept track 
Yonder a mighty crocodile with vast irradiant back, 

A triple row of pointed teeth ? 
Under its burnished belly slips a ray of eventide. 
The flickerings of a hundred glowing clouds its 
tenebrous side 

With scales of golden mail ensheathe. 
Then mounts a palace, then the air vibrates — the 

vision flees. 
Confounded to its base, the fearful cloudy edifice 

Ruins immense in mounded wrack : 
Afar the fragments strew the sky, and each enver- 

meiled cone 
Hangeth, peak downward, overhead, like mountains 
overthrown 

When the earthquake heaves its hugy back. 
119 



A Sunset These vapours with their leaden, golden, iron, bronzed 
glows. 
Where the hurricane, the waterspout, thunder, and 
hell repose. 

Muttering hoarse dreams of destined harms, 
'Tis God who hangs their multitude amid the skiey 

deep. 
As a warrior that suspendeth from the roof-tree of 
his keep 

His dreadful and resounding arms ! 



All vanishes ! The sun, from topmost heaven pre- 
cipitated. 
Like to a globe of iron which is tossed back fiery red 

Into the furnace stirred to fume. 
Shocking the cloudy surges, plashed from its im- 
petuous ire. 
Even to the zenith spattereth in a flecking scud of 
fire 

The vaporous and inflamed spume. 



O contemplate the heavens! whenas the vein-drawn 

day dies pale. 
In every season, every place, gaze through their every 
veil. 

With love that has not speech for need ; 
Beneath their solemn beauty is a mystery infinite : 
If winter hue them like a pall ; or if the summer 
night 

Fantasy them with starry brede. 



120 




HEARD ON THE MOUNTAIN 

FROM Hugo's * feuilles d'automne' 

lAVE you sometimes, calm, silent, let your 

tread aspirant rise 
Up to the mountain's summit, in the presence 
of the skies ? 
Was't on the borders of the South r or on the Bre- 

tagne coast ? 
And at the basis of the mount had you the ocean 

tossed ? 
And there, leaned o'er the wave and o'er the im- 

measurableness. 
Calm, silent, have you harkened what it says ? Lo ! 

what it says ! 
One day at least, whereon my thought, enlicensed 

to muse. 
Had drooped its wing above the bleached margent of 

the ooze. 
And, plunging from the mountain height into the 

immensity. 
Beheld upon one side the land, on the other side 

the sea. 
I harkened, comprehended, — never, as from those 

abysses. 
No, never issued from a mouth, nor moved an ear, 

such voice as this is ! 

A sound it was, at outset, vast, immeasurable, con- 
fused. 

Vaguer than is the wind among the tufted trees 
effused. 

Full of magnificent accords, suave murmurs, sweet 
as is 

The evensong, and mighty as the shock of panoplies 

When the hoarse melee in its arms the closing squad- 
rons grips, 

121 



Heard And pants, in furious breathings, from the clarions' 
Zluntai. brazen lips. 

Unutterable the harmony, unsearchable its deep, 
Whose fluid undulations round the world a girdle 

keep. 
And through the vasty heavens, v^hich by its surges 

are washed young, 
Its infinite volutions roll, enlarging as they throng. 
Even to the profound arcane, whose ultimate chasms 

sombre 
Its shattered flood englut with time, with space and 

form and number. 
Like to another atmosphere with thin o'erflowing 

robe. 
The hymn eternal covers all the inundated globe : 
And the world, swathed about with this investuring 

symphony. 
Even as it trepidates in the air, so trepidates in the 

harmony. 



And pensive, I attended the ethereal lutany. 

Lost within this containing voice as if within the 



Soon I distinguished, yet as tone which veils confuse 

and smother. 
Amid this voice two voices, one commingled with 

the other. 
Which did from ofi^ the land and seats even to the 

heavens aspire ; 
Chanting the universal chant in simultaneous quire ; 
And I distinguished them amid that deep and rumor- 

ous sound. 
As who beholds two currents thwart amid the 

fluctuous profound. 

122 



The one was of the waters ; a be-radiant hymnal Heard 
1 I on the 

speech ! Mountain 

That was the voice o' the surges, as they parleyed 

each with each. 
The other, which arose from our abode terranean. 
Was sorrowful ; and that, alack ! the murmur was of 

man ; 
And in this mighty quire, whose chantings day and 

night resound. 
Every wave had its utterance, and every man his 

sound. 



Now, the magnificent Ocean, as I said, unbannering 
A voice of joy, a voice of peace, did never stint to 

sing. 
Most like in Sion's temples to a psaltery psaltering. 
And to creation's beauty reared the great lauds of 

his song. 
Upon the gale, upon the squall, his clamour borne 

along 
Unpausingly arose to God in more triumphal swell ; 
And every one among his waves, that God alone can 

quell. 
When the other of its song made end, into the singing 

pressed. 
Like that majestic lion whereof Daniel was the guest. 
At intervals the Ocean his tremendous murmur awed ; 
And I, t'ward where the sunset fires fell shaggily and 

broad. 
Under his golden mane, methought, that I saw pass 

the hand of God. 

Meanwhile, and side by side with that august fan- 
faronade. 

The other voice, like the sudden scream of a destrier 
aifrayed 
123 



Heard Like an infernal door that grates ajar its rusty throat, 
^Mountain ^^^ ^^ ^ ^°^ °^ ^^°^ '^^^^ gnarls upon an iron rote. 

Grinded ; and tears, and shriekings, the anathema, 

the lewd taunt. 
Refusal of viaticum, refusal ol the font. 
And clamour, and malediction, and dread blasphemy, 

among 
That hurtling crowd of rumour from the diverse human 

tongue. 
Went by as who beholdeth, when the valleys thick 

t'ward night. 
The long drifts of the birds of dusk pass, blackening 

flight on flight. 
What was this sound whose thousand echoes vibrated 

unsleeping ? 
Alas ! the sound was earth's and man's, for earth and 

man were weeping. 

Brothers ! of these two voices, strange most unima- 
ginably. 
Unceasingly regenerated, dying unceasing, 
Harkened of the Eternal throughout His Eternity, 
The one voice uttereth : Nature ! and the other 
voice : Humanity ! 

Then I alit in reverie ; for my ministering sprite 
Alack ! had never yet deployed a pinion of an ampler 

flight. 
Nor ever had my shadow endured so large a day to 

burn : 
And long I rested dreaming, contemplating turn by 

turn 
Now that abyss obscure which lurked beneath the 

water's roll. 
And now that other untemptable abyss which opened 

in my soul. 

124 



And I made question of me, to what issues are we Heard 

, on the 

^^^^> _ Mountain 

Whither should tend the thwarting threads of all this 
ravelled gear ; 

What doth the soul ; to be or live if better worth it 

is; 
And why the Lord, Who, only, reads within that 

book of His, 
In fatal hymeneals hath eternally entwined 
The vintage-chant of nature with the dirging cry of 

humankind ? 



(The metre of the second of these two translations Is 
an experiment. The splendid fourteen-syllable metre of 
Chapman I have treated after the manner of Drydenian 
rhyming heroics 5 with the occasional triplet, and even 
the occasional Alexandrine, represented by a line of eight 
accents — a treatment which can well extend, I believe, 
the majestic resources of the metre.) 



125 



ULTIMA 



127 




LOVE'S ALMSMAN PLAINETH HIS FARE 
YOU, love's mendicancy who never tried, 
How little of your almsman me you 
know ! 
Your little languid hand in mine you 
slide. 

Like to a child says — * Kiss me and let me go ! * 
And night for this is fretted with my tears. 

While I : — * How soon this heavenly neck doth 
tire 
Bending to me from its transtellar spheres ! ' 

Ah, heart all kneaded out of honey and fire ! 
Who bound thee to a body nothing worth. 

And shamed thee much with an unlovely soul,, 
That the most strainedest charity of earth 

Distasteth soon to render back the whole 
Of thine inflamed sweets and gentilesse ! 

Whereat, like an unpastured Titan, thou 
Gnaw' St on thyself for famine's bitterness. 

And leap' St against thy chain. Sweet Lady, how 
Little a linking of the hand to you ! 

Though I should touch yours careless for a year. 
Not one blue vein would lie divinelier blue 

Upon your fragile temple, to unsphere 
The seraphim for kisses ! Not one curve 

Of your sad mouth would droop more sad and 
sweet. 
But little food love's beggars needs must serve. 

That eye your plenteous graces from the street. 
A hand-clasp I must feed on for a night, 

A noon, although the untasted feast you lay. 
To mock me, of your beauty. That you might 

Be lover for one space, and make essay 
What 't is to pass unsuppered to your couch. 

Keep fast from love all day ; and so be taught 
The famine which these craving lines avouch ! 
129 9 




Love's Ah ! miser of good things that cost thee naught, 

^^l^ineth ^°^ know' St thou poor men's hunger ? — Misery! 
His Pare When I go doleless and unfed by thee ! 



A HOLOCAUST 

* NO MAN EVER ATTAINED SUPREME KNOWLEDGE 
UNLESS HIS HEART HAD BEEN TORN UP BY THE 
ROOTS.' 

JHEN I presage the time shall come — yea, 
now 
Perchance is come, when you shall fail from 
me. 
Because the mighty spirit, to whom you vow 

Faith of kin genius unrebukably. 
Scourges my sloth, and from your side dismissed 

Henceforth this sad and most, most lonely soul 
Must, marching fatally through pain and mist. 

The God-bid levy of its powers enrol ; 
When I presage that none shall hear the voice 

From the great Mount that clangs my ordained 
advance. 
That sullen envy bade the churlish choice 

Yourself shall say, and turn your altered glance ; 
O God ! Thou knowest if this heart of flesh 
Quivers like broken entrails, when the wheel 
Rolleth some dog in middle street, or fresh 

Fruit when ye tear it bleeding from the peel ; 
If my soul cries the uncomprehended cry 
When the red agony oozed on Olivet ! 
Yet not for this, a caitiff, falter I, 

Beloved whom I must lose, nor thence regret 
The doubly-vouched and twin allegiance owed 
To you in Heaven, and Heaven in you. Lady. 

130 




How could you hope,loose dealer with my God, ^ 

That I should keep for you my fealty ? Holocaust 

For still 'tis thus : — because I am so true. 
My Fair, to Heaven, I am so true to you ! 



BENEATH A PHOTOGRAPH 

vHCEBUS, who taught me art divine, 
'Here tried his hand where I did mine 
(And his white fingers in this face 
Set my Fair's sigh-suggesting grace. 
O sweetness past profaning guess. 
Grievous with its own exquisiteness ! 
Vesper-like face, its shadows bright 
With meanings of sequestered light ; 
Drooped with shamefast sanctities 
She purely fears eyes cannot miss. 
Yet would blush to know she is. 
Ah, who can view with passionless glance 
This tear-compelling countenance ! 
He has cozened it to tell 
Almost its own miracle. 
Yet I, all-viewing though he be, 
Methinks saw flirther here than he ; 
And, Master gay ! I swear I drew 
Something the better of the two ! 



AFTER HER GOING 

i^HE after- even ! Ah, did I walk. 
Indeed, in her or even ? 
For nothing of me or around 
But absent She did leaven. 
Felt in my body as its soul. 

And in my soul its heaven. 
131 




After Her ' Ah me ! my very flesh turns soul, 

""^^ Essenced,' I sighed, * with bliss!' 

And the blackbird held his lutany. 
All fragrant-through with bliss ; 
And all things stilled were as a maid 
Sweet with a single kiss. 

For grief of perfect fairness, eve 
Could nothing do but smile ; 

The time was far too perfect fair. 
Being but for awhile ; 

And ah, in me, too happy grief 
Blinded herself with smile ! 



The sunset at its radiant heart 

Had somewhat unconfest : 
The bird was loath of speech, its song 

Half-refluent on its breast. 
And made melodious toyings with 

A note or two at best. 

And she was gone, my sole, my Fair, 

Ah, sole my Fair, was gone ! 
Methinks, throughout the world 'twere right 

I had been sad alone ; 
And yet, such sweet in all things' heart. 

And such sweet in my own ! 



MY LADY THE TYRANNESS 

)E since your fair ambition bows 
i\Feodary to those gracious brows. 
Is nothing mine will not confess 
Your sovran sweet rapaciousness ? 

132 




Though use to the white yoke inures. My Lady 

Half-petulant is the 

Your loving rebel for somewhat his, Tyranness 
Not yours, my love, not yours ! 

Behold my skies, which make with me 

One passionate tranquillity! 

Wrap thyself in them as a robe. 

She shares them not ; their azures probe. 

No countering wings thy flight endures. 

Nay, they do stole 

Me like an aura of her soul. 

I yield them, love, for yours ! 

But mine these hills and fields, which put 

Not on the sanctity of her foot. 

Far off, my dear, far oiF the sweet 

Grave pianissimo of your feet! 

My earth, perchance, your sway abjures ? — 

Your absence broods 

O'er all, a subtler presence. Woods, 

Fields, hills, all yours, all yours ! 

Nay then, I said, I have my thought. 
Which never woman's reaching raught; 
Being strong beyond a woman's might. 
And high beyond a woman's height. 
Shaped to my shape in all contours. — 
I looked, and knew 
No thought but you were garden to. 
All yours, my love, all yours ! 

Meseemeth still, I have my life ; 
All-clement Her its resolute strife 
Evades ; contained, relinquishing 
Her mitigating eyes ; a thing 



My Lady Which the whole girth of God secures. 

%ranncss ^h, fool, pause ! pause ! 

I had no life, until it was 
All yours, my love, all yours ! 

Yet, stern possession! I have my death. 

Sole yielding up of my sole breath; 

Which all within myself I die. 

All in myself must cry the cry 

Which the deaf body's wall immures. — 

Thought fashioneth 

My death without her. — Ah, even death 

All yours, my love, all yours ! 

Death, then, he hers. I have my heaven. 

For which no arm of hers has striven ; 

Which solitary I must choose. 

And solitary win or lose. — 

Ah, but not heaven my own endures ! 

I must perforce 

Taste you, my stream, in God your source. 

So steep my heaven in yours. 

At last I said — I have my God, 
Who doth desire me, though a clod. 
And from His liberal Heaven shall He 
Bar in mine arms His privacy. 
Himself for mine Himself assures. — 
None shall deny 
God to be mine, but He and I 
All yours, my love, all yours ! 

I have no fear at all lest I 

Without her draw felicity. 

God for His Heaven will not forego 

Her whom I found such heaven below, 

134 



And she will train Him to her lures. My Lady 

Nought, lady, I love '4^ 

In you but more is loved above ; 
What made me, makes Him yours. 

' I, thy sought omxiy am I forgot ? * 
Ha, thou ? — thou liest, I seek thee not. 
Why vs^hat, thou painted parrot. Fame, 
What have I taught thee but her name ? 
Hear, thou slave Fame, while Time endures, 
I give her thee ; 

Page her triumphal name ! — Lady, 
Take her, the thrall is yours. 



UNTO THIS LAST 

BOY'S young fancy taketh love 
Most simply, with the rind thereof; 
' A boy's young fancy tasteth more 
The rind, than the deific core. 
Ah, Sweet ! to cast away the slips 
Of unessential rind, and lips 
Fix on the immortal core, is well ; 
But heard' st thou ever any tell 
Of such a fool would take for food 
Aspect and scent, however good. 

Of sweetest core Love's orchards grow ? 
Should such a phantast please him so. 
Love where Love's reverent self denies 
Love to feed, but with his eyes. 
All the savour, all the touch. 
Another's — was there ever such ? 
Such were fool, if fool there be ; 
Such fool was I, and was for thee ! 
135 




Unto this But if the touch and savour too 

Of this fruit — say. Sweet, of you — 

You unto another give 

For sacrosanct prerogative. 

Yet even scent and aspect were 

Some elected Second's share ; 

And one, gone mad, should rest content 

With memory of show and scent; 

Would not thyself vow, if there sigh 

Such a fool — say. Sweet, as I — 

Treble frenzy it must be 

Still to love, and to love thee ? 

Yet had I torn (man knoweth not. 
Nor scarce the unweeping angels wot 
Of such dread task the lightest part) 
Her fingers from about my heart. 
Heart, did we not think that she 
Had surceased her tyranny ? 
Heart, we bounded, and were free ! 
O sacrilegious freedom ! — Till 
She came, and taught my apostate will 
The winnowed sweet mirth cannot guess 
And tear-fined peace of hopelessness ; 
Looked, spake, simply touched, and went. 
Now old pain is fresh content. 
Proved content is unproved pain. 
Pangs fore-tempted, which in vain 
I, faithless, have denied, now bud 
To untempted fragrance and the mood 
Of contrite heavenliness ; all days 
Joy aiFrights me in my ways ; 
Extremities of old delight 
Afflict me with new exquisite 
Virgin piercings of surprise, — 
Stung by those wild brown bees, her eyes! 

136 




ULTIMUM 

OW in these last spent drops, slow, slower 
shed, 

^Love dies. Love dies. Love dies — ah. Love 
is dead ! 
Sad Love in life, sore Love in agony. 
Pale love in death ; while all his offspring songs. 
Like children, versed not in death's chilly wrongs. 
About him flit, frighted to see him lie 
So still, who did not know that Love could die. 
One lifts his wing, where dulls the vermeil all 
Like clotting blood, and shrinks to find it cold. 
And when she sees its lapse and nerveless fall 
Clasps her fans, while her sobs ooze through the 

webbed gold. 
Thereat all weep together, and their tears 
Make lights like shivered moonlight on long waters 
Have peace, O piteous daughters ! 
He shall not wake more through the mortal years. 
Nor comfort come to my soul widowed. 
Nor breath to your wild wings ; for Love is dead ! 
I slew, that moan for him : he lifted me 
Above myself, and that I might not be 
Less than myself, need was that he should die ; 
Since Love that first did wing, now clogged me fi"om 

the sky. 
Yet lofty Love being dead thus passeth base — 
There is a soul of nobleness which stays. 
The spectre of the rose : be comforted. 
Songs, for the dust that dims his sacred head ! 
The days draw on too dark for Song or Love ; 
O peace, my songs, nor stir ye any wing ! 
For lo, the thunder hushing all the grove. 
And did Love live, not even Love could sing. 
And, Lady, thus I dare to say. 
Not all with you is passed away! 

137 



Ultimum For your love taught me this : — *tis Love's true praise 
To be, not staff, but writ of worthy days ; 
And that high worth in love unfortunate 
Should still remain it learned in love elate. 
Beyond your star, still, still the stars are bright ; 
Beyond your highness, still I follow height ; 
Sole I go forth, yet still to my sad view. 
Beyond your trueness. Lady, Truth stands true. 
This wisdom sings my song with last firm breath. 
Caught from the twisted lore of Love and Death, 
The strange inwoven harmony that wakes 
From Pallas' straying locks twined with her aegis- 
snakes. 
* On him the unpetitioned heavens descend. 
Who heaven on earth proposes not for end ; 

r^ The perilous and celestial excess 

Taking with peace, lacking with thankfulness. 

Bliss in extreme befits thee not, until 

Thou'rt not extreme in bliss ; be equal still : 

Sweets to be granted think thyself unmeet 

Till thou have learned to hold sweet not too sweet.' 

This thing not far is he from wise in art 

Who teacheth ; nor who doth, from wise in heart. 



ENVOY 

jO, songs, for ended is our brief, sweet play ; 
Go, children of swift joy and tardy sorrow : 
jAnd some are sung, and that was yesterday. 
And some unsung, and that may be to-morrow. 

Go forth ; and if it be o'er stony way. 

Old joy can lend what newer grief must borrow : 

And it was sweet, and that was yesterday. 

And sweet is sweet, though purchased with sorrow. 

138 




Go, songs, and come not back from your far way : Envoy 
And if men ask you why ye smile and sorrow. 

Tell them ye grieve, for your hearts know To-day, 
Tell them ye smile, for your eyes know To-morrow. 



139 



FIVE HUNDRED COPIES OF THIS 
NEW POEMS BY FRANCIS THOMP- 
SON ARE PRINTED BY JOHN WILSON 
AND SON CAMBRIDGE MASSACHU- 
SETTS DURING MAY M DCCC XCVII 



€) s 



